


Waltz With the Demimonde

by MyParamour



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Character Death, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Not AU but there will be changes, Possible slow burn - not sure yet, Romance, red dead redemption 2 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2019-09-14 19:44:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 50,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16919223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyParamour/pseuds/MyParamour
Summary: Vanessa Talbot never wanted this. She wanted to lead her own life and she had no interest in marrying a man she'd never even met. When the train she's travelling on gets robbed by none other than the van der Linde gang, she takes her chance to find out who she can really be.





	1. Chapter 1

Vanessa Talbot had had far too much to drink. Normally she would have turned down the offer of one because,  _"a lady does not partake in alcohol before supper,"_ her mother would say, but after Javier had strutted his way over to her with a whiskey bottle in hand, she felt obliged to say yes. She was in desperate need of a friend.

“To celebrate!” he'd said, shoving the bottle towards her face. She grabbed it, taking a _very_ unladylike-swig that burned all the way down her throat.

She furrowed her brows and stifled a cough that was threatening to emerge, “and what is it that we're celebrating?”

He took a wobbly step before plunking himself down against a tree. The sight of his struggle made her laugh, but she happily followed suit nonetheless and sat down beside him.

“You made it a whole day without making Mrs. Grimshaw mad!"

She breathed out a laugh at his statement, “I think she hates me.”

He grumbled in response before he grabbed the bottle back from her. “Nah, she just doesn't know how to handle you yet.” He gave her a gentle smile, and she appreciated his kindness.

Vanessa had only been with the gang for just shy of a month and she had found herself struggling to fit in. So far as she could tell, she had been born into a vastly different life than every single person around her, and it made her feel like an outsider. She couldn't help but question if she would ever gain the ability to blend into the crowd. She'd tried her best, but she felt like a fool having to ask how to perform simple chores that any other woman would have learned how to do ages ago; but up until now she'd had everything handed to her on a silver platter, and while she knew her station wasn't something she could help, she chided herself about it regardless. 

To Vanessa's detriment, Miss Grimshaw seemed to have seen right through her from the start, and the older woman took every chance she could get to chastise her work. Vanessa had already felt mortified at the verbal lashings she'd taken, and in front of other people even, and on more than one occasion she'd considered leaving and continuing down the path that had brought her South in the first place. But she couldn't do that. She'd made her choice and there was no turning back now.

So she revelled in the moment of relative peace, sitting on the grass and talking about whatever nonsense came to mind. Javier had been nice to her from the beginning, and she had been enjoying the conversation they'd been having before he promptly passed out, the empty bottle slipped from his grasp as it rolled away from him. She considered waking him up, but he looked content and even in her (now) drunken state she didn't have the heart to disturb him.

She moved to stand, and found herself on uneasy footing. “Oh!” She flailed her hands out and managed to catch herself on a nearby barrel where she waited for a moment, trying to find her bearings.

Christ, it was hot. She reached for the top button of her blouse and undid it, feeling the sweat that had appeared on her chest. That was another thing that she quickly needed to become accustomed to. She'd come from New York, and while their summers were delightfully sunny, it was nothing in comparison to the heat that the Southern states seemed to be awash in year-round. A sudden desire to bathe took over, and she got an idea to make her way downward towards the river.

She took wobbly steps forward and trudged passed the campfire, when she heard someone acknowledge her. “Goin’ somewhere?”

She whipped her head around towards the sound of the voice and her head instantly regretted the action. She felt a bit dizzy, and her right foot caught on her left as she stepped forward and she let out a gasp as she waited for her body to hit the ground. 

“Woah, Woah - - hey there, Miss.”

She blinked a few times to focus her sight and she found herself being gripped by Arthur. “y’alright, Miss Talbot?”

She blanched, slightly mortified that he'd caught her in such a state. She coughed, “I-- I'm fine. Thank you, Mr. Morgan.” She wanted to stand upright, to show him that _really_ , she was doing okay but instead she punctuated her sentence with a loud hiccup that startled her.

Arthur smiled as he looked down at her. “Sure ya are. And I'm the Mayor of Saint Denis.”

She hunched over, her embarrassment, the heat and her drunkenness creating a mixture that seemed to upset her stomach. “Mr. Morgan, can you--?”

He knew what she was going to ask. “Yeah. Let's get you back to yer tent, shall we?”

She leaned on him, probably too much, as he guided her to the tent she shared with Tilly. Arthur reached forward and held the flap of the tent open as she stepped inside. While still wanting to cool down, the sight of her cot made her body realize just how exhausted she was, and she was immediately desperate for sleep. Vanessa closed her eyes and made quick work of her blouse, allowing it to slip off of her shoulders.

Arthur cleared his throat behind her and she turned her head to look at him. “Oh I, I'm sorry Arthur, I didn't mean--”

He held his hand out to stop her, “it's okay.” They stared at one another for a few seconds before he nodded, “goodnight, Miss Talbot.”

She tried her best to smile before she swallowed, “goodnight, Mr. Morgan.”

 

* * *

 

The water was _cold_. She let out a breath as she reached her hands back into the river, cupping the liquid and rinsing her face. John had taken to ribbing her for how often she could be found washing up, but she couldn’t help it. She'd always had a penchant for cleanliness, and despite now living outside she tried her best to keep it that way.

Vanessa peaked down at her dress. The once pristine and neatly-trimmed blue linen was now tinted with a hem of dirt that, no matter how hard she tried, would never seem to wash out. It was a shame, she thought, as this had been one of her favourite dresses to wear, although not near as nice as she gowns she'd previously been accustomed to wearing.

When she had arrived she'd been wearing an ensemble she'd had specifically made for her journey, and one which her mother had been hoping would please her soon-to-be husband, so it was no surprise that amongst the gang she stuck out like a sore thumb, and from the moment their eyes fell upon her it was adamantly clear that she had a mountain of distrust to climb over. 

The worst of it had come from Abigail, but when Vanessa put her mind to it she’d understood. She’d arrived on John’s horse, sitting side-saddle with his arms around her as he held onto the reins. He’d been very gentlemanly with her in helping her down and she’d spent the first few days at camp in his company. It took a short amount of time for her to become quite fond of him, and Vanessa could easily see how that could be misconstrued; but in reality, part of the reason why she felt that fondness was because John reminded her of the brother she’d left behind back home. She missed him.

Vanessa reached for her wash cloth and patted her face dry before she began working through the tangles in her hair. She didn’t have too many of her possessions with her, but she was grateful she’d remembered a brush within her luggage. She sat back and looked towards camp, and the figure of a child made his way towards her.

“Good morning, Miss Talbot!”

She grinned when she noticed Jack precariously holding a mug within his grasp, his unsteady hold causing the liquid inside to slosh around as he made his way to her side. He stopped in front of her and gingerly held his hands out, urging her to take the cup of coffee from him.

“Good morning, Mr. Marston.” She put her brush in her lap and reached for the mug, “did you bring this for me?”

He nodded, “yeah.”

“Well aren’t you sweet, Thank you.”

She took a sip and as she swallowed she realized that the young Mr. Marston had not had a gentle hand when adding the sugar, but the gesture was immensely appreciated, and truth be told his error made it even sweeter, in more ways than one.

He clasped his hands behind his back and nodded, “what are you doing?”

She swallowed one more sip (that was all she could take) of the coffee before placing it down beside her. “I'm just cleaning myself up a bit."

Jack reached up and ran his little hand through his own locks, his fingers getting caught on a large tangle, and eyed her brush.

Vanessa let out a chuckle, “you look like you could do with a brush yourself, Mr. Marston. Come here.” He sat down in front of her, cross-legged, and placed his hands in his lap as she began to brush out the knots.

“Miss Talbot?”

She ran the instrument through his hair gently before she answered. “Yes?”

“Are you married?”

She paused her movements. “No. I’m not married.” Had she stayed on that train that night she would have been. Married to a stranger, but a man who her father and mother had considered to be a good match for her. But that’s not what she’d wanted. She never had.

“How come?”

“Oh, I… I suppose I haven’t met the right man.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, her own thoughts wandering to what her life would be like now had she not stood up on that train and made a convincing enough argument for the outlaws to take her back with them, when Jack abruptly yelled out, “Uncle Arthur!,” pulling her out of her own head.

“Hey, Jack." He nodded towards her as he approached, "Miss Talbot.”

Vanessa, having finally worked her way through the tangles, pat Jack on the shoulder, signalling that she was finished. He stood up and brushed himself off before tucking his hair behind his ear. “Do I look nice, Uncle Arthur?”

The corners of Arthur's mouth turned upward, and he gave a small nod to the boy. “Sure. Why don’t you go show yer mama?” Evidently, Jack did not need to be told twice as he quickly scurried off, leaving the two of them alone.

Silence sat between them momentarily, and Vanessa tried to think of something to say to him, but the memory of the night before caused a blush to her cheeks, and she tried to distract herself from the feeling by resuming her previous task.

“You feelin’ alright?”

She didn't look up at him to answer, but she could see out of her periphery that Arthur had crouched on the ground next to her. Vanessa held a chunk of hair in her hands and she gently ran the bristles through it. "Oh, I'm fine, Mr. Morgan. Thank you." She bit her lip, and she sighed inwardly as she concluded that she owed him an apology. "Although, I am sorry for last night. I believe I've embarrassed myself."

He chuckled, and she felt a warmth blossom in her chest at the sound. "Don't worry, I ain't telling anyone."

She looked to him, and she was surprised to see him smiling back at her. When they'd met she could only see half of his face as the other was hidden beneath the black bandana he'd worn. That night he'd looked a bit frightening, rifle in hand and making demands of the train passengers, herself included. Her adrenaline had been pumping at an alarming rate, and it wasn't until the next morning that she saw him in full-view. He was  _very_ handsome, and equally intimidating.

“I appreciate that, Mr. Morgan. And I promise I generally don’t make a habit of undressing in front of people.”

He let out a short laugh, but didn’t answer her remark as he noticed the mug next to her. “Did Jack bring that to ya?”

Vanessa giggled as she reached for the cup. “He did. Although I must confess that he seems to have overdone it on the sugar.”

Arthur raised his brows and a knowing smirk appeared on his face. “Thought he might’ve. He’s a sweet kid, but he’s about as good at that as his father is at swimmin’.”

She let a laugh escape from between her lips at his comment. “He’s very cute... Jack, I mean.”

Arthur swallowed, and her eyes were drawn to his adam’s apple. “He’s takin’ a liking to you.”

She smiled, “I’ve noticed. I just wish it was as easy to win everyone else over too.”

He moved to stand up, and he reached into his pocket to grab a cigarette, lighting it before he responded. “You ain’t gotta worry about that, Miss Talbot.” And with that he tipped his hat, and stalked back towards camp without another word.


	2. Chapter 2

The campfire burned hot, and she took a seat back from the heat as the sparks flew up into the air and fell back toward the ground. She’d spent her day tending to miscellaneous duties around camp, obeying each command that was thrown at her. She was eager to make herself useful, and she often worried that someone might think she didn’t bring anything to the table.

She’d had a fair amount of money on hand when she’d arrived and she’d given most of it to Dutch the morning after, but she felt that sooner, rather than later, the good that contribution made would run out.

She didn’t have many skills that the camp would deem useful. Growing up she didn’t have any need to learn how to cook or properly hunt. She did know how to shoot, but not well enough to be given the job of gathering food for everyone. Now, if anyone ever needed a lesson on proper etiquette for a dinner party or how to speak to people of a higher station then Vanessa Talbot was your woman; but she sincerely doubted that knowledge would ever come in handy.

Sadie took a seat at her right and held out a drink to her to take. “Here ya are.”

She nodded, “oh, thank you, Mrs. Adler.”

“Please, call me Sadie.”

A silence fell between them as they both listened to the crackling of the fire and Javier singing a tune that neither of them recognized. “How’re you holding up?”

Vanessa took a sip of her drink before responding. “Fine, I think… although, to be honest I’m not sure how useful I am. I’m concerned that people find me more of a burden than anything.”

Sadie shook her head, “you’re not. I’ve seen you here - you’re a hard worker. That’s worth more than you give yourself credit for.”

She bit her bottom lip and nodded, “thank you. I suppose I’m not used to any of this.”

“I imagine so. When you arrived I’d thought maybe John had taken you for ransom,” she let out a laugh at the thought.

Vanessa’s hand flew to her cheek as she felt a blush colour it. “I can’t say I blame you. When I stepped on that train I had no intention leaving with four strange men who came to rob me.”  
_  
The train stopped dead in its tracks and she looked outside to see what had caused it, but all she could see was darkness. A crash sounded from the car in front of her and she stood up, taking a few steps from her seat to peek through the windows. Her eyes widened as she spotted two men - one with dark hair and who carried a rifle on his back, and another with sandy brown hair, who was pointing his own rifle directly at the passengers._

_She quickly turned and marched back to her seat. She’d been trying to think of a way out of her impending marriage for days, maybe this was it. No, that’s insane. Who are these men, anyways? If they could rob a train they could easily want to harm her. But on the other hand she was dreading what would happen once she reached Blackwater. She was desperate. Maybe now was that time to do something reckless._

_The door to her car was kicked open, and a gasp escaped her lips. She locked eyes with the man who was aiming his rifle and she tried to stand up straight to appear brave._

_She cleared her throat, “if you could spare me a moment, I have a proposition for you.”_

Sadie scooched closer and whispered, “so what was the plan? Why were you on the train that day? You’ve been quite silent about it.”

She was right. While she made no attempt to hide her wealth she’d kept a tight lip on everything else. “Have you ever heard of a man named Richard Levinson?”

“No - who is he?”

Vanessa took a breath, thinking of how to explain the situation. “He’s an acquaintance of my father’s. He owns a very large Estate outside of Blackwater and I was on my way to -- well, I was to be his wife.”

Sadie raised her brows, “his wife?”

“Mhm.” She took a sip of her drink, and as she swallowed she felt relief at the fact that she had dodged that particular bullet.

“Had you met him before?”

Vanessa shook her head. "Not properly. He's from around here, you see, but he would occasionally visit New York so my parents became acquainted with him at parties. But I’d seen him only from a distance and we’d yet to be introduced.”

Sadie chuckled and touched her hand to her cheek, “how romantic.”

Vanessa smiled in return, “my sentiments exactly. I never wanted it, to marry him, I mean. But my parents insisted that I had to. I think they were starting to get worried that no one would have me, but the truth of the matter is that _I_ wouldn't have  _them_. I'd been asked, but I just couldn't ever find it in me to accept... but I guess what I wanted had started to become too much for them, so they took the choice away from me. And that day, on the train, well I’d travelled a long way to be here, but when it came down to it… that’s not the life I want. Although I’m certain they’re furious with me.”

“I'm sorry, honey. Have you written to them? To explain everything?”

Vanessa swallowed, and she felt a lump form in her throat. “No. I’ve meant to but I haven’t been able to find the right words. I know it's mostly my own cowardliness that's stopping me, but I already know what they're going to say in response. And anyways, there’s also the problem of my return address. I don’t want to spoil anything for anyone here.”

“Ah, I hear you." Sadie shifted closer towards her and leaned in, "look, we don’t know each other very well but for what it’s worth I admire your choice.”

The corners of Vanessa's lips turned upwards, “do you really?”

“Of course... I’m sure you’ve heard about my Jake.”

Vanessa reached out and touched Sadie’s hand in hers. “I have. And I’ve been meaning to tell you that I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, that’s sweet. But what I wanted to say was that the time I had with my husband is proof to me that people should _always_ marry for love. You never know how short life can be until it's taken from you. So finding someone that you want to spend that time with, well, it’s what we all deserve.” She tightened her grip on Vanessa’s hand and the younger woman nodded in agreement.

“I feel the same.”

 

* * *

 

She spotted him sitting on his own, leaning back against a tree and scribbling something in that notebook he always carried around. She walked towards him, trying to be quiet so as not to break his concentration. When she got near enough she tried to steal a glance at what he was working on. She was quite impressed.

“That’s lovely, Mr. Morgan.”

He jerked and slammed his notebook firmly shut before he looked up at her. “Oh, Miss Talbot.”

She clasped her hands together, “I’m sorry. Am I interrupting?” She pointed back towards the camp, “I can leave you alone if you’d prefer.”

He eyed her silently and she was a bit surprised when he motioned toward the ground beside him and re-opened his notebook to the page he was on. “No. I’d like the company.”

Vanessa brushed her hair behind her ear and she sat, careful not to get too close.  Her eyes fell back to what he was working on, and she watched with rapt attention as he continued. “I did mean it, by the way. Your drawing. It’s quite good.”

He kept his eyes on the page but she saw a small smile form on his lips, “it’s nothing.”

She reached her hand out and touched the grass between them. “Nonsense. I’ve never had a talent for it... My mother used to encourage me to try, to give me a hobby I suppose, but I’ve always been wretched at it, but I promise I can spot it when someone is actually good.”

She heard a low laugh and the sound made her feel proud to have made it happen. “And here I thought a lady like you would have many talents.”

She smirked, “Of course. I’m good at a lot of things, Mr. Morgan. Just never ask me to draw your portrait. I would do you a great disservice.”

She studied his face. He'd recently gone into town and gotten a trim - his hair was cropped short and he'd gotten rid of the bulk of his beard, leaving only a short dusting of hair along his jawline. Without the beard you could really see what his face looked like. He'd placed his hat beside him and with the sunlight shining, Vanessa could see fine crows feet starting to form, and light freckles along his t-zone. His skin was slightly worn by constantly being out in the sun but it only added to his ruggedness.

She swallowed, wanting to ask him something she'd wondered for a while now.

“Mr. Morgan?”

His pencil scratched along the page of his notebook, never stopping its movements as he answered her. “Arthur.”

She licked her bottom lip, “Arthur, then.”

“Yes, Miss Talbot?”

Vanessa laughed and held her finger up, giving it a wave. “that's not fair. If I’m to call you Arthur then I have to insist that you call me Vanessa.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up again, “I don't know, m’am. I think that might be beneath yer station.”

She reached out and lightly smacked his shoulder, “now you're teasing me.”

He stopped the movement of his hand and he gave her a look of amusement. “I am. Now what's yer question? Vanessa.” His voice dropped as he said her name and she looked down at the ground to hide the tinge that she felt forming on her cheeks.

She cleared her throat. “Can I ask how old you are?”

He paused, looking like he was contemplating whether or not to tell her the truth, before h responded. “Thirty-six. Why?... Would you ‘ave guessed older? I know I'm an ugly sonofabitch but--”

“No! Of course not, don't - - you're so hard on yourself, Arthur. Don't be.”

He didn't answer her statement and instead, he turned his attention back to his notebook.

“... I would've said 35.”

His gaze continued to avoid hers but she could see him raise his brows, as if he thought she was lying.

They hadn't spoken as much as she'd have liked since she'd arrived but even from a distance she'd noticed him silently berate himself over tiny things that didn't matter. She'd noticed he seemed to take the ribbing Dutch and the others sometimes gave him to heart, even if he tried his best not to show it. And as he sat so close to her she couldn't let him beat himself up like that again.

“Truly. You've seen some sun and I know you haven't always had it easy but… “ She reached out and surprised herself as she delicately touched his chin, asking him to look her in the eye. "You're a handsome man, Arthur Morgan, don't doubt that.”

He gave her a look she couldn't quite read as he absorbed her words. He opened his mouth to say something but instead, he opted to shut it again and merely gave her a nod.

She let her hand fall away from his face and returned it to her lap, worried that she might have crossed an intimacy line with him. He didn't seem like he enjoyed being affectionate with the others, so maybe he wouldn't want to be that way with her either.

“... And you?”

She had been lost in her own head that his return question surprised her. “Hmm?”

He chuckled, and again the low sound made her smile, “how old are you?”

“I'm twenty-four.”

She thought back to being at home. Countless girls had already been married off and she'd started to develop a reputation as Vanessa Talbot, already on the verge of being a spinster and unsuitable for marriage. She frowned, and her face made Arthur ask her what was wrong.

She raised her hand to wave him off, “no, it's nothing, really. I just… back home. If you're a 24 year old, unmarried woman you may as well resign yourself to dying alone on the shelf.” She tried to laugh it off, but the whole situation still made her feel uneasy. She _didn't_ want to be Mrs. Richard Levinson but a part of her felt like a failure for not having been married already. She couldn't help it; it's how she'd been brought up. Her purpose in life was to get married and birth children for her husband. And so far she'd been failing at both.

Arthur stopped drawing, and he closed his notebook placing it on the ground in between them. “Now that just don't make sense.”

Vanessa laughed, this time genuinely. “And I agree. But evidently most people back home wouldn't.”

Arthur shook his head, and turned his body to face hers. “I might not be the smartest man, Vanessa, but if I know one thing it's that yer not on the shelf.”

She smiled, and brushed her hair behind her ear. “Thank you, Arthur.”

 

* * *

 

“This is ridiculous.”

She felt uncomfortable. Twenty minutes prior John had barged into her tent that and suddenly demanded that she learn how to ride a horse like a normal person.

'But I have no riding clothes!' wasn't a legitimate excuse to John Marston and he'd hauled her over to the horses regardless.

Vanessa had managed to wrangle a pair of trousers that she'd borrowed from Sadie, but they were large on her and she felt silly having to hold them up with a belt.

John held his hands out, “no, what's ridiculous is that you've been here for weeks but you continue to ride a horse like a fancy lady, when you should be riding one like an outlaw.”

She wanted to be annoyed but John sounded just like her older brother, and she couldn't help but smile at the familiarity. Vanessa licked her lips and turned to face John's horse as she crossed her arms. “Fine.”

He smirked and he bent down, cupping his hands together to give her a boost. She reached up and held onto the saddle, as she gingerly stepped into his hands. She pulled, and she must've gotten more leverage than he was expecting because when she swung her legs over the horse, the strength of John's boost almost tossed her over the side.

“John!”

She quickly gripped the reins in order to stay on and she heard John burst out laughing at the display. She wanted to pretend to be angry but she heard a low laugh coming from behind her and she turned to see Arthur, his hand on his chest as he laughed harder than she'd seen him.

She couldn't help but smile as they locked eyes. “Well, do I look like a proper van der Linde gang member?”

He stepped towards her, removing his hat as he did so. “Come here.” She leaned down and he placed his hat on her head.

“Now you do."


	3. Chapter 3

For the first time since she’d joined the gang, Vanessa had spent most of her day with Hosea. They’d spoken multiple times beforehand but they had yet to have an opportunity to really get to know one another. From what she could tell he was a very kind man, and possibly the only person in camp that was rational in his decision-making.

She’d cornered him while he was reading outside of his tent, a book in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. “Mr. Matthews.”

He looked up and gave her a kind smile, “yes?”

“I thought maybe you and I could spend some time together today. And I also have a bit of a bribe just in case you’re thinking about saying ‘no’.”

“Now why would I turn down such an invitation from a lovely lady like yourself?”

Vanessa let out a short laugh, “I couldn’t say, but just in case…” She brought her hands out from behind her back and held out a book to him. “I’ve been told you enjoy Aldous Filson novels and I bought one during my travels. I thought you might like to read it.”

He placed his cup down on the table beside him before he leaned forward and took the book from her. “Well, that’s mighty kind of you. Thank you.”

“Can I take that as a yes?”

He nodded, and after some deliberation, Vanessa found herself making her way to Rhodes, with Hosea at her side.

“I hope you feel that we’ve treated you well.”

She looked to her right, and she felt a bit struck by the genuine concern written on his face. “Of course.”

The corners of his mouth turned upward, “good. I know some of the men, and women, frankly, can be gruff, and they can be hard to get along with.”

He certainly wasn’t wrong. She’d felt like she’d made a few genuine friendships with people but for the most part she felt like she hardly knew the others at all. She couldn’t even tell if they liked her or not.

“Well, I’ve been trying. But sometimes I feel like I don’t quite fit in.”

Hosea nodded, “I thought that might be the case.”

“Did you?”

He readjusted his hat and pointed in the direction they needed to turn. “‘Course. You rode into camp wearing a fancy dress, you hand Dutch an amount of money most of us haven’t seen in a long while, you take a liking to John and I'm sure that's ruffled Abigail's feathers at least.”

She frowned, “I don't mean to ruffle feathers.”

“I know. And I know you mean no harm. But the others are wary of strangers, especially ones who they don't understand. You can't blame them for it. We've been on the run from the law, you have to take care.”

She sighed as she digested his words, it was clear that they rang true. She knew if positions had been reversed she'd be equally suspicious of her intentions.

“You don't have to tell me, Miss Talbot, but why did you come back with them that night?”

Vanessa breathed deeply, “I suppose that at the heart of it all I wanted to get away.”

“What from?”

“My life. Where it was headed.”

Hosea stopped his horse and she pulled on the reins to stay beside him. “What was so wrong with your life?”

Vanessa pat the horse she'd borrowed from Charles to distract herself as she answered. “I'd been sent far from home to marry a stranger. I never wanted to come here, I wanted to stay at home with my friends, family and everything I'd grown up surrounded by. But I was told by my parents they couldn't allow me to go unmarried any longer, and they'd found a man who wanted to marry me - a powerful man with a lot of money and a big estate, something they'd always wanted for me. So they packed my things and shipped me off, never listening to my opinion on the matter. I know they think that's what's best for me, and that a woman like me is supposed to be eager to marry any man who's a suitable match for her but I just - - the thought of being tied to a man I don't even know only because that's the socially acceptable thing for me do to despite my personal feelings on it - - I just can't do it. I felt like the walls were closing in on me.”

Hosea peered at her from beneath his hat, “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. I'm sure my troubles sound small in comparison to what you've all been through.”

He shook his head. “Don't you do that to yourself. A future you didn't want was being forced on you, that would be a hard fate to swallow for anyone, it sounds most unfair.”

She gave him a smile, “Thank you… when they were robbing the train I saw it as a way out. I didn't know where they had come from or where I'd end up. I've done what was asked of me all my life and I didn't want to feel trapped in that any longer. And when I arrived at camp and saw that all of you were living free from regular society, a society in which I don't seem to have any right to my own opinion, I thought that maybe if I stayed I could, well… find myself.”

Hosea have her a gentle smile. “you're a brave woman, Miss Talbot. I admire your tenacity.” He gently kicked his horse and began to move, “now come on. Let's take your mind off your troubles."

  

* * *

 

She was surprised when, the very next day, Hosea approached her asking if she could accompany him on a job.

“Maybe wear that dress you had on when you first arrived.”

He explained that he was taking her to meet with someone named Catherine Braithwaite, and he was hoping that her presence there would help legitimize their reputation. Vanessa had never been asked to join anyone on an outing like this before, so she took the extra time to make sure she applied rouge to her cheeks and that her hair was done as best as she could manage on her own.

She sat up front with Hosea as Sean rode in the back. When they approached she was impressed by the amount of land the Braithwaite’s owned. Where she grew up Vanessa had quite a large home but being in the city, the amount of land available to them was limited. The men that stood on guard were aggressive in their questioning of the three of them, but Hosea, as Vanessa was beginning to find out, had a way with words, and he easily manoeuvred their way passed them and towards the house.

They were lead inside by an unnamed Butler and guided towards the parlor, where they were advised Mrs. Braithwaite would join them momentarily.

Vanessa looked around the room. The grandeur was similar to what she was previously used to but there was a distinct difference between the decoration of the South and where she’d come from. She found herself wondering if Richard Levinson lived in a house similar to this. Had she not diverged from her journey would she be the mistress of a similar estate?

“Where’s Arthur?”

Sean’s Irish lilt drew her attention back to the matter at hand and she crossed the room, sitting down on the sofa as Hosea answered him. “He’ll be here shortly, I'm sure.”

Mrs. Braithwaite arrived soon after and she immediately directed a footman to bring them all tea. Catherine Braithwaite took a quick once-over of Sean without saying a word but when her eyes fell on Vanessa she raised her brows. “My, what is a girl like you doing spending her time with men like this? Tell me, what’s your name, girl?”

Vanessa clasped her hands together in her lap. “Anna Matthews, Mrs.”

Hosea placed his hand on her knee, “she’s my sister’s daughter. Her mother recently passed on so I’m taking charge of her for the time being.”

During their ride to the manor, Vanessa had been instructed to use a fake name. “We’ve been on the run for a while now. You might be with us but I want to keep you out of our troubles as much as I can.”

She had appreciated the gesture, and when she thought more about it she also wasn’t sure how far the Levinson ear reached, what if he got word and sent a message back to her parents? Or worse, what if he came to find her?

The footman re-entered the room, placing a tray of tea, cream and sugar onto the table. Catherine motioned for Vanessa to take the first cup and she did so, “thank you.”

Mrs. Braithwaite seemed satisfied with their answer, and without any more pretence they got down to business. Vanessa didn’t have much to input on their discussion, but she was very interested in learning about just how much hatred was shared between the Braithwaites and the Grays. Vanessa tried her best to keep a straight face when Catherine explained that she wanted the Gray’s crops burned, and she couldn’t help but feel a tinge of worry spark in her chest. She hardly knew anything about this other family but she imagined that if they found out who was responsible they would not be merciful in repaying that debt.

The door swung open, and the butler announced the arrival of another party as Arthur stepped in behind him.

“Ah, your friend. The other liquor vendor.” Vanessa didn’t miss the attitude that poured out with Catherine’s words, and she wondered what information Sean and Hosea had neglected to tell her about the last time they’d met Catherine Braithwaite.

“Hello, m’am. Nice to see you again.” He gave a small wave, and Vanessa couldn’t help but smile at him.

Catherine ignored him, and turned her gaze to Hosea. “So this one,” she nodded back in the direction of Arthur, “is he as big and dumb as he looks?”

Vanessa had to fight her instinct to stop from saying something at that. But luckily, with her upbringing she’d had a lot of practice when it came to holding her tongue.

Hosea leaned forward, “well, he’s surely big. But his intelligence is a matter of some conjecture. Some say he _is_ as dumb as he looks but I say… well, he’s not quite _that_ dumb.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, and Vanessa let out a small laugh at the sight, biting her bottom lip to stop herself from continuing. His eyes fell on her and he gave her a smirk.

Mrs. Braithwaite looked between Sean and Arthur, “so these are the boys goin’ to Caliga Hall?”

Hosea nodded, “yes, we could take care of that for you, but there is still the question of money?”

Catherine laughed, “oh, we’ve got money Mr. Matthews.”

Hosea shooed the three of them out of the room before they got down to particulars, and Vanessa lead their way back outside. "Well," she said as she slid her gloves back onto her hands, "that was enlightening."

Sean huffed as he buttoned-up his jacket. "That Mrs. Braithwaite's a character, I'll give 'er that."

Vanessa smiled, "mhm." Out of her peripheral she spotted Arthur sidle beside her and she looked over at him. She watched as he eyed her before his gaze fell on hers. "You look mighty fine, sweetheart."

His words caught her off guard and she felt her heartbeat quicken. "Oh, I... thank you, Arthur."

They stared at one another for a few moments before Sean interrupted. "Listen, are we gonna burn this field or are ya gonna stand there and make an arse of yourself all night?"

Vanessa smiled wide and quickly looked down at the ground, feeling a blush creep onto her face. Arthur sighed, "I'm comin.' Vanessa."

She risked another glance at him as he started to walk away from her. "Arthur."

She watched as the two of them hopped on the wagon, her smile fading from her face as she swallowed. She stood on the porch by herself, and as she waited for Hosea to finish his meeting, the more she started to question what they were doing. And as Hosea emerged and they made their way back to camp, she hoped that doing the bidding of Catherine Braithwaite wouldn’t turn out to be a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to remind everyone that while I mostly will be following the events of the game I might not do them in the order they actually happened


	4. Chapter 4

The same night they’d brokered the deal with Catherine Braithwaite, Vanessa overheard a conversation from Dutch’s tent as she tended to the fire.

“What’re you boys thinkin’?” She watched as Arthur looked in between Dutch and Micah. He'd just returned to camp with Sean, and without anyone to bother her she took a moment to admire his form. He’d dressed in all black so as to assist in blending into the darkness, and she couldn’t stop herself from thinking he looked incredibly handsome.

There were plenty of men around camp that could easily have caught anyone’s eye, but so much about him in particular seemed to fit into every one of her tastes, and the more time she spent with him the more she discovered new traits she had previously not known she was attracted to.

Micah held his hands up in a dramatic fashion, “we try to rob them both.”

Arthur raised his brows and placed his focus on Dutch who was sitting next to him, “You sure?”

Dutch nodded, “why not?”

Arthur slipped his thumbs underneath his belt and raised his shoulders, “ _because_ we got law men in three different states after us.”

Dutch stood up from his seat and he slid his hat off of his head, placing it on a table. “The last thing I want is to get us into trouble but we need money. We have an opportunity to put ourselves in the middle of something and ain't nobody even gonna know we _was_ here.” He laughed and outstretched his arms, “because even without us these fools are gonna kill each other anyway.”

Arthur shook his head, but he conceded with a sigh. “Okay.”

Dutch reached out and pat his shoulder. “Good. Now, I’m sending John and Javier to the Gray’s place tomorrow so get some rest. I want you, and _you_ ,” he looked over to Vanessa, “to go with them.”

She wanted to protest but Arthur spoke first, “how the hell did we get in with the Grays?”

“Sheriff Gray put in a good word with ‘em. Says his daddy wants to rob the Braithwaites of their horses… It ain’t that hard, Arthur.” He reached for the flap of his tent, “now, if you excuse me I gotta go write some letters.” He stepped inside, and closed the flap behind him.

She poked at the fire with the long stick she held in her hand as Arthur came towards her, taking a seat to her right.

“Why would he want me to go with you tomorrow?”

“Search me.” He ran his hand over his face before he looked over at her. “It went fine with Mrs. Braithwaite today. Maybe he thinks yer charm’s what did it.”

Vanessa smiled, “I doubt that. Most of that was Hosea’s doing.”

“Somehow I don’t think Hosea in that dress woulda been as convincing as you.”

She couldn’t stop herself from letting out a loud laugh at the image, and she placed her hand on Arthur’s bicep as she tried to contain herself. “You’re joking but now I’d like to see that.” Arthur chuckled, and she felt his muscle twinge beneath her hand at the movement. She suddenly wondered if she’d held onto him for too long and, not wanting to be awkward or make him uncomfortable, she yanked her hand back.

A silence fell between them and her mind wandered back to the conversation she’d witnessed. “Arthur?”

“Hmm?”

She paused, wondering if she had any business asking questions like this, but she felt she should voice her concerns regardless. “Do you think it’s smart, to play both sides of this?”

He breathed deeply and looked toward the ground, “I dunno.”

She clasped her hands together in her lap, “I just wonder, what if they _do_ find out we’ve been trying to trick them? I know they hate each other but sometimes a common enemy can bring even the deepest rivals together.”

He didn’t answer her at first, and she thought maybe she had crossed a line. “I’m sorry, Arthur, I shouldn’t have asked.” She moved to get up, but he placed his hand over hers. “No, don’t.” She was surprised by his touch, and she hoped that this action signalled that he was growing more comfortable with her.

“All I can say is I trust in Dutch.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before he let go of her. She stood, and looked down at him. “Alright, Arthur Morgan. I don’t know much about him but I think I can say that I trust in _you_ , so that’s good enough for me.”

 

* * *

 

“He’s in the barn. I’m sure he’ll _love_ to see you, Miss.”

Vanessa smiled, surprised that it had been so easy to have the Gray’s agree to a meeting with them, and as they rode passed the man who’d been keeping watch at the front of the plantation, she let that smile falter, not appreciating his innuendo.

John saddled up beside her with a smirk on his face. “Maybe we should let you tag along more often.”

She stared at him, trying her best to look annoyed when Javier joined in. “Must be loads of men who would _love_ to see you, Vanessa.”

She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing, “You can both kindly keep your mouths shut on that subject.”

Truth be told, she was nervous and she appreciated them making her laugh as it helped relieve some of her anxiety. Along their journey they had decided that Vanessa should take the lead as out of the three of them she looked the least suspicious, which was an important factor as the Gray’s would be on high-alert after having their crops destroyed by unknown assailants. But this felt like a lot of responsibility on her part, and this kind of task felt like it came out of nowhere after two months of her doing nothing besides menial tasks around camp. She hoped she could speak with enough authority to be believed.

When they reached the barn she spotted a man inside. “Mr. Gray?” She called out to him, and he looked surprised to see her as he approached the entrance.

“Yes? Who are you?”

Javier slid off his horse and quickly made his way towards her, helping her down from her own. She nodded at him as a thank you before she approached the stranger. “Mr. Gray, my name is Anna Matthews and I was wondering if you had some time to spare to discuss business with myself and my associates.” She held her hand out, waiting for him to take it.

It took a few seconds but Mr. Gray stepped forward and reached for her hand, kissing the fabric of her glove before he let go and took a step back. “Of course, please.” He motioned for the three of them to enter the barn, and she was grateful to be out of the hot sun. Her dress was beautiful, but it was certainly not made for warm weather. She kept a smile plastered on her face, regardless.

Mr. Gray held his hand up, “I apologize for the mess. We had some bandits burn our crops last night.”

“Oh, how dreadful! Who would do such a thing?”

He muttered, a scowl forming on his face, “there’s a family not too far from here, the Braithwaites. Maybe you heard of ‘em.”

She shook her head as she reached into the small bag she carried, pulling out a fan. “Only what your son has told us.”

“A bunch of degenerates, the lot of ‘em. You never know what kinds of folk they got working for ‘em.” His gaze shot to both John and Javier, “and just who are you two? How do I know it weren’t you who did this to my plantation?”

“Ah,” Javier reached his hand out, “Javier Escuella.” Mr. Gray looked down at his hand, ignoring the greeting as he looked to John.

“Uh, my name’s John Marston, sir. That awful business was nothing to do with us. I like smokin’ tobacco, not recklessly burnin’ it.”

Vanessa snapped her fan shut to draw attention back to herself. “Mr. Gray,” she reached out and gently touched her fingers to his shoulder, “I assure you that my associates are in no way related to what’s happened. Your son merely mentioned that you and yours might be needing assistance - something about horses? And I thought, for a nominal fee, that we might be able to strike a deal.”

He smiled wide at her, and she felt confident that she’d had him as she heard another horse galloping towards them. She watched as Arthur tied up his horse and approach the group.

“Mr. Gray, may I introduce another associate of ours, Arthur Morgan?”

Arthur stood tall beside her, “Mr. Gray. I’ve met your son, the sheriff?”

The older man looked at Arthur with an expression she couldn’t read, so Vanessa quickly turned the conversation. “Mr. Morgan, Mr. Gray here was just advising us about problems he has with another family---”

Mr. Gray cut her off, eager to voice his opinion, “of degenerates!”

Arthur shook his head, “oh, well, nobody likes degenerates.”

She felt a laugh bubble up her throat but she swallowed hard to stop it from escaping.

Mr. Gray stepped forward, “that hag and her inbred sons. They ruined this county.” He looked to Vanessa, “they killed my uncle, you know?”

She reached out once more, “you poor thing.” She heard a quiet snort come from Javier and she shot him a glare, not wanting him to ruin the plan.

“Problem is we can’t be seen to get too close. Goddamn peasants. Just look at ‘em! But we got gold.” He stepped away from her as he muttered obscenities which she didn’t much care to listen to.

Arthur spoke up, “how much gold?”

Mr. Gray turned back around to face them, “these horses my boy told you about. Worth five thousand.”

John raised his brows, “five thousand? For horses?”

He nodded with conviction, “easy.”

Arthur moved passed her, “where do we sell ‘em? These five thousand dollar horses.”

“In Clemens Cove. Feller over there will run ‘em outta state.”

Vanessa looked to her three companions and when none of them made to move she did for them. “Mr. Gray,” she stepped forward and reached her hand out, “I believe we have a deal.” She locked eyes with him as he took her hand once more. He swallowed, “just keep us out of this. Publicly.”

She leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper, “you have my word.”

Mr. Gray grinned before he let go of her hand and she quickly spun around and marched back over towards her horse, eager to leave. Her heart was thudding hard in her chest and she wanted to get away before her facade came crashing down.

Once they were away from prying eyes and ears John spoke up, “god damn, Vanessa. You worked that crazy old fool.”

She laughed, squeezing tightly on the reins as they continued in a trot, “I thought he’d see right through me.” Javier spoke loudly from behind her, “no, I think you were made for this.”

Vanessa smiled and she felt a blush begin to colour her face as she looked over at Arthur. “What do you think?”

He gave her a once-over and the corner of his mouth turned upward, “I think yer more charming than ya know.”


	5. Chapter 5

Vanessa handed the payment over the counter to the shopkeep before placing the small items in her basket. “Thank you, kindly.”

She had promised Tilly that she'd go into Rhodes to buy a few miscellaneous items they both felt they were lacking. She hadn't left camp for a few days and she had been itching to get back into town. Before she'd left home she’d never experienced anything like the quiet of spending most of your time in nature, and she often felt like she needed the hustle and bustle Rhodes, or any other populated area, could provide her.

She never felt lonely back at camp, mind you, but it just wasn't the same as having everything you needed almost at your fingertips.

The bell chimed as she opened the door and exited, and no sooner had she taken two steps than she spotted Sean, Bill and Micah walking down the street, with Arthur lagging behind.

“Well, hey there!” She smiled as she walked up to the four of them and she received a few nods and a, “hey to you, miss” in return from Sean.

“What are you fine gentleman doing in town this afternoon?”

Micah scoffed, “gentleman? I ain't seen no gentleman ‘round here.”

She opened her mouth to retort but she shook her head and thought better of it. She'd found recently that when it came to Micah sometimes it was better to just pretend like he didn't bother her rather than engage him. “Meeting someone?"

Bill spoke up, “the Grays.”

“Oh, well, would you mind if I join you?”

He shrugged, and Vanessa looked to the others for any kind of objection and when she saw none, she followed after them.

“Whatcha got in that basket, there?” Sean flipped the lid open and did his best to rummage around while walking at the same time. “Smells good.”

Vanessa smiled, “that’s the soap I just purchased. Speaking of which, my nose is telling me the four of you could use some of this.”

Sean clutched at his heart, “is that what you think of us? What happened to callin’ us gentleman?”

She bit her lip to stop from laughing, “even a gentleman needs to bathe once in a while.”

He lifted the lapel of his jacket and took a sniff before he grimaced, “damn if you’re right.”

Vanessa risked a glance behind her and back at Arthur, and she felt internally delighted that their banter had put a smile on his face. “So what are you meeting the Grays for?”

Sean twirled his rifle around before placing it over his shoulder, “somethin’ about needin’ protection. Ain’t that right, Bill?”

She furrowed her brows, “protection? For the Sheriff of Rhodes?”

Arthur coughed, “she's right. This seem legit to you, Bill?”

He nodded, “sure,” but he seemed far from committed to that response.

As they continued down the street Vanessa felt a lump start in her throat. She looked from left to right, glancing at every person they passed, and something about them seemed strange, like they were all paying too much attention to them. She didn't have much experience with being an outlaw but something about this seemed wrong.

“Arthur.” She reached out and touched his arm, “I don't like this.”

“Darlin’, I'm---”

“No, I mean it. I think we should turn around.” She tried to be forceful in her words and by the look he gave her in response she thought she'd succeeded.

The five of them stopped in place. “Maybe we should---”

Micah threw his arms up, “Don't be stupid, Cowpoke. She's a woman, she doesn't know nothin’ about what we're dealin’ in.”

“ _Hey---_ ” She stepped forward to challenge him and she felt Sean's hand touch her shoulder.

“I believe ya.” He gave her a smile and looked back at the others, “it don't feel right, I coulda told ya th---”

Her face was wet. Her hands flew up, dropping her basket with a thunk on the dirt and she ran her fingers over her skin before she pulled them away. They were covered in blood. _She_ was covered in blood. Her blouse had been white and pristine and when she looked down it was red and dark and there were chunks of something all over her.

“What is…”

She looked up and saw Sean's eyes roll back as he fell to the ground, his head blown open by a single shotgun blast.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to run but her voice was gone and her feet refused to move. A hand gripped her arm tightly and it _hurt_ as she was dragged from her place to cover behind a wagon. It look her a moment to focus on the face staring down at her. “Vanessa!”

He shook her roughly and her head smacked the wood of the cart as she tried to catch her bearings. She reached up with both arms and tried to cling to him, “Arthur, I--”

He shoved a pistol at her chest, forcing her right hand to grab at it. “Stay here. Don't move until I come back.” He stared at her for a moment, worry filling his eyes before he turned and ran away from her and out of cover.

She swallowed, the lump in her throat now feeling like a large obstruction, and she tried to breathe deeply. Gunfire played a horrifying melody as she moved to get onto her knees. She bent down to peer beneath the cart only to lock eyes with the still form of Sean.

She made a strangled sound. She wanted to look away from him but she couldn't bring herself to. It was the most horrid thing she'd ever seen in her life and she instantly knew this would be an image that plagued her dreams.

 _“Stop staring. Stop staring. Don’t look at him.”_  
  
She closed her eyes tightly shut and she tapped her head with the butt of the gun to try and shake herself out of her shock. Vanessa opened her mouth to take a deep breath, and she felt as if she could vomit when the distinct realization of the predicament she was in dawned on her.

She went into a crouch and crawled to one end of the cart and risked peeking over the side. She watched as Micah dodged a shot before shooting a man in the head and she tried to crawl far enough to find Arthur.

To her relief she saw him standing across the road, hiding behind a pillar and aiming at a man she couldn’t see. The wagon bucked and it startled her before she saw a pair of legs just on the other side. She waited, and silently watched as a man dashed across the road and into cover, not far behind Arthur. A streak of fear ran through her chest as she realized he hadn’t noticed the movement.

“Arthur.”

She meant to yell his name, she really had, but her voice had failed her. She clutched at the gun in her hands and it took every ounce of strength she had to stand up. She looked from left to right, making sure there were no enemies near her and followed after the man. He took one, two, three steps closer to Arthur and raised his gun, just as she pressed her own into his back.

He flinched and raised his hands up. Vanessa’s voice cracked as she pleaded with him, “please don’t make me.”

The sound of her timid voice caught Arthur’s attention, and he quickly grabbed the gun from the man and looked at her. “You did good, darlin’. Now turn around.”

She bit her lip hard as she lowered her arm and she reached out, her left hand touching the wood of whatever building she stood in front of, and she turned, waiting for the _bang!_ of Arthur’s gun being fired.

She heard it, and the sound made her body shake. Then everything fell silent and all she could hear was the hammering of her heart in her chest. A warm palm pressed itself into her back and guided her into the building, before she had the door shut behind her.

She stood still, not daring to move as she heard Micah and Arthur yelling at Sheriff Gray to come out and to fight them like a man. She wasn’t sure how long it lasted for, but she was certain when it was over. Vanessa swallowed, and it felt as if it lodged in her throat but she tried her best to ignore it as she reached for the doorknob and slowly opened the door, stepping back outside.

Her eyes immediately fell to Sean, and without thinking anything of it she made her way towards him, stopping as the front of her boot reached the pool of blood that surrounded him.

“Oh.”

She bent down, the hem of her dress turning a shade of red as she did so. She reached forward and gently ran her hand over what was left of his face, brushing his hair back so she could look at him properly.

“He was a good kid.” Arthur’s shadow stood tall next to her, and she nodded towards him in agreement. “He was.”

“Well how the hell was I supposed to know this would happen?” Bill shouted towards them as he held his hands out, urging Arthur to challenge him.

Arthur marched towards him, “they set us up once before. They didn’t like us. We destroyed their farm. Should I go on!?” She’d never seen him so angry and even in her state Vanessa knew that had she been on the receiving end of it she’d have felt incredibly intimidated.

Micah stood beside him, “go easy on him, Morgan. He was tryin’ to find a lead, same as you.”

They argued, but she didn’t pay any attention to what they were saying. Instead, she took her handkerchief and tried her best to wipe some of the blood off of Sean’s face. He’d been kind to her, and she didn’t want him to be buried that way.

“Vanessa.”

She heard Arthur call out to her but he sounded far away, she was engrossed in the task that she’d created for herself. “Vanessa.” His large hand touched hers, stopping her movements. She looked up and met his eyes. “Let me take him.”

She sat back on her heels and watched as Arthur lifted Sean onto his shoulder, directing Bill to take him somewhere nice to bury him.

 

* * *

 

She was mostly silent for the duration of the ride back to camp. Arthur had insisted he pull her horse along behind his and that she ride with him, and she didn’t question his judgment. Everything that had happened was so foreign to her and when she’d left that morning she had no idea that this would be how her day would end.

Arthur slowed his horse down as they neared the encampment, and he quickly slid off and hitched it to the post before he held his arms out. “Come here.” She swung her leg over, and allowed him to touch his hands to her waist and gently lift her down to the ground. She looked at her hands and she winced as she noticed the blood that had darkened and dried onto her skin.

She heard him sigh and his fingers ran through her hair before he grabbed onto something and slowly pulled it out.

“What is it?”

She looked down at his palm and she gasped as she saw that it was a small chunk of flesh that had landed in her hair. Vanessa was horrified at the sight. She cried out, and before she could move Arthur enveloped her in a tight embrace. He held onto her, immobile, until she began to steady her breathing, “come on. We need to get you cleaned up.”

He held onto her hand, grabbed her basket and headed towards her tent. “Miss Tilly!” Arthur called out as they approached. “What is it, Arthur? Oh my -- Vanessa! What happened?!” She ran towards her and touched her hand to her face.

Arthur spoke quietly, “we ran into some trouble in Rhodes. Take this,” he handed her basket to Tilly, “and get her cleaned up, alright?” Vanessa felt his eyes on her and he gave her hand a squeeze before he let go. “I gotta go talk to Dutch and Hosea.”

Tilly nodded, and guided Vanessa into their tent.

She couldn’t bring herself to speak as she removed her bloodied clothes. Tilly was extraordinarily kind with her and didn’t push her for any kind of explanation while she helped her clean the blood off of her skin.

“We’re gonna need to wash your hair.”

Vanessa nodded, and she waited for Tilly to go and gather the water she needed before she came back into their tent, and when her hair was clean she was relieved to at least physically be removed from what had happened.

She was left alone for a while after that, something which she was very grateful for. Her mind was going crazy, and she wasn’t sure which thought to focus on first. She couldn’t believe what she’d just experienced. Sean had been shot less than two feet away from her. He had died in front of her and on her. She came close to having to kill a man. And the thought that was encompassing everything was the thought that maybe she had made a mistake in getting off the train that day. None of this would have happened to her had she not been so foolish and acted to impulsively. What was she thinking and what did she have to show for a it? A memory that would keep her awake at night.

She had some serious decisions to make, and she had no idea what she would choose.


	6. Chapter 6

She took another sip of her coffee and swallowed hard as the bitterness slipped its way down her throat. She’d had a restless sleep; every time she closed her eyes she was right back on that street in Rhodes, staring into the lifeless face of Sean. So she’d laid there, looking up into the darkness for hours, trying to think of what she should do. Stay with the gang and possibly go through this trauma again? Continue her journey on to Blackwater and hope that her betrothed would still want to marry her? Abandon either option and make her way back home, hoping her parents wouldn’t send her away for a second time?

Vanessa had finally given up about two hours ago, deciding that if she stayed in bed any longer she’d drive herself mad. Instead, she’d sat up, slowly brushed her hair, rinsed her face, and changed into one of the outfits that she’d purchased with Hosea, hoping that a new morning and a change of clothing would lighten her spirit.

She’d sulked out of her tent and made her way towards the fire, seeing no one else in camp yet awake. She tossed a few more twigs and branches into the flame, stoking it before she grabbed what she needed to make some coffee.

John was the first to join her. She’d watched as he’d stumbled out of his tent, his boot catching on a hole in the ground as he made his way towards her. She’d laughed, and knowing the state she’d been in the night previous, John made no attempt to chide her for it.

The two of them watched the sunrise together, and she was grateful that she had some time to collect herself before the others woke up. Despite the fact that she’d felt she’d shown her worth to them, she worried that if they could see how upset witnessing Sean’s death had made her, that they’d think she was weak; ill-suited to staying with them. Not that she knew that’s what she wanted to do, mind you.

“You alright?”

She looked up from her mug and sighed. “Should I be honest?”

He furrowed his brows in concern, “course.”

Vanessa bit her bottom lip as she felt her emotions threaten to boil over. “I’m not.” She shook her head, and out of her periphery she saw John move from his seat to take a place beside her. “Maybe I was being foolish, but I never considered the idea that staying here with you all could put me in that situation. I’ve known what you are, what you do, but I just never…” She felt a tear slip down her face and she tried to quickly wipe it away without him noticing, but John was too quick for her.

“Hey, hey… come here.”

He wrapped his arm around her and she gladly rested her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying her best to relax. “Thank you.”

The two of them stayed in that position for a while, neither breaking away until the distinct sound of a tent flap opening stirred them, little Jack emerging out like a freight train. “Miss Talbot!”

“Shh! Keep quiet, Jack! Others are still sleepin’!” Abigail’s voice called after him, but Jack had already run off towards Vanessa and his father, and he seemed to take no notice of the warning.

Jack stopped dead in his tracks as he reached Vanessa and she noticed he clutched something in his hands. “Miss Talbot.”

She smirked, “yes, Mr. Marston?”

“Uncle Arthur told me you’re sad. He said you need cheering up.”

John chuckled beside her, “did he, now?” and Vanessa could _hear_ the teasing in his words.

But Jack couldn’t. “Uh huh.” He held his hands out towards her, revealing a small, wrapped gift.

Her heart swelled as she plunked her mug on the ground, “is this for me?”

Jack nodded and placed what he was holding into her hands. “Uncle Arthur helped me.”

The gift was tied together with some twine and when she removed it, she realized that it was wrapped with a thick kind of paper, and small flowers had been drawn all over it. It took her a moment, and she blamed it on the fact that she hadn’t expected Jack to give her anything, but she realized that the paper had come from Arthur’s sketchbook, and he must have been the one to decorate it. “Did he?”

“Yes - open it!”

She unfolded the paper and when she was finished, she stared down at a homemade leather bracelet. It was clear that Jack had made it - it mostly consisted of thin pieces of leather that had been tied together, with beads sporadically placed, but she wanted to cry at the sentiment. “Oh, Mr. Marston, it’s beautiful. Did you make this yourself?”

Jack grinned, “Yep! All by myself! But Uncle Arthur wrapped it.”

Vanessa slid off of the seat and sat with her knees on the ground, “I love it. You’re so sweet, Mr. Marston, thank you. You’ve cheered me right up.” She smiled wide and held her arms out, inviting Jack in for a hug. He squeezed tightly around her neck before he stepped back and leaned against his father’s legs, watching quietly as she held her hand out, John tying the bracelet around her wrist. “That’s mighty nice, boy.”

Jack looked smug, and for the first time Vanessa could see the familial resemblance to John. “Thanks.” And no sooner had he arrived had Jack run back off towards the tent he shared with his mother.

“He’s lovely.” John nodded, but didn’t vocalize an answer. She’d never asked him, but it was easy to see that John felt unsure about his relationship to Jack. She wanted to speak to him about it, but she hadn’t yet found the right time. So instead, she gave him a smile and the two of them sat in companionable silence until the rest of the camp began to awake.

 

* * *

  

“Arthur?”

She heard a low grunt of acknowledgement and she took that as an invitation to enter his tent. She held the flap up and as she stepped inside she let it fall closed behind her.

“Oh! Vanessa.” He quickly removed his hat and moved to stand up in a greeting but she held her hand up to brush him off. “It’s alright.” She let her eyes wander quickly over his possessions, and she was unsurprised to find that he kept his tent in order, each item he owned seemed to be for functionality rather than of personal taste. He had no personal effects displayed, except one photo of a woman and a small boy. She wondered who that was.

She looked at Arthur as he shifted in his seat on his cot and she motioned towards it, “may I?”

He nodded, “of course.” He quickly moved his things out of the way - from what she could tell he had been drawing something - and he pat the thin mattress.

The cot wasn’t large, and as she took a seat she tried her best to not allow their proximity to get to her. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me? What for?”

“Just… everything.” She licked her lips and she noticed his eyes drifted to her mouth as she did so. “Yesterday, in Rhodes. If you hadn’t been there I’m not sure what would have happened to me… and for riding back with me, making sure I was okay. I just, I really appreciate you being there for me.”

He gave her a small smile, “I seem to remember _you_ bein’ the one to save me.”

Vanessa let out a giggle, “that was, I didn’t ---” His hand touched her thigh and she lost the words on her tongue.

“Nah, you did. So I should be thankin’ ya too.”

He locked eyes with her and she felt her heartbeat quicken at the intensity of his gaze. Without thinking she placed her hand on top of his and gave his palm a little squeeze. “You did something else I need to thank you for, though.” She reluctantly let go of him, and pushed her left sleeve upward, revealing the bracelet Jack had made her.

“He gave it to me this morning. Told me you said I could use something to cheer me up.”

For the first time she’d known him he blushed, and he quickly looked down towards his feet. “Well, I know yesterday was rough. I wanted ya to know yer valued here, by me-- us. Jack and me. Everyone.” He quickly corrected himself, and her heart skipped a beat at his words.

“Am I?” He looked back towards her and she tilted her head, “sometimes I don’t feel like I am. I worry I’m not made for this.” She inwardly cursed herself as she felt her emotions getting the better of her again, she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of Arthur. “Yesterday, it was… traumatic. Arthur, I -- when I told you on that train that I wanted to come with you, I was naive as to what that meant. What life is like here… It’s worlds away from where I come from. Back home people don't have to worry about getting shot just because they went into town, or worry about someone they care about dying on them. I just, I was far from prepared for that. Maybe I should’ve been. Or at least, I should've considered the possibilities.”

He sighed, and looked towards the photograph that she’d eyed when she’d entered his tent. He reached out for it and held it in his lap.

“I had a son. Once.” He gently ran his fingertips over the face of the boy, and her eyes widened as she understood his words. He pointed towards the woman, “Eliza,” and his fingertip gently tapped over the child. “Isaac.”

Vanessa reached her hand out and grabbed onto his forearm. “What happened to them?”

“They were killed for ten dollars.” He looked at the photo for a few moments longer before he placed it back to where it had previously been sitting. “We weren't together, Eliza and me, but I did my best to come around when I could. But I wasn’t there like I shoulda been.”

She slid her hand down his arm. “That wasn’t your fault, Arthur.”

“Maybe. But I shoulda been there.”

He turned to face her on the cot. “I ain’t tellin’ ya this to scare ya. You just need to know that yer not wrong. Life out here, like this -- it’s hard. We’re a dyin’ breed and I don’t know how much longer we’ve got before the law wipes us out.” He ran his hand through his hair, “but us - the gang - we ain’t good men but we’re _family._  We’re all we’ve got.”

She wasn’t sure how to answer him. The longer she stayed with the van der Linde gang, the more she knew that she’d fall into the snare of staying for _him_ , but the repercussions that could come from staying a part of this were severe. And scary.

“Do you ever think about leaving?”

He immediately shook his head. “Never.”

“Really? Even after everything you’ve said?”

“Nah. Dutch and Hosea raised me. I owe them my loyalty. And the gang - they’re like brothers to me. And Jack---”

“Reminds you of Isaac?”

He didn’t answer her question, but he didn’t need to. The way Arthur looked at him, she was surprised she hadn’t figured it out on her own before now. It was obvious that he loved him the way a father loves his child.

Love. That was something Arthur hadn't said in favour of her staying. As dysfunctional as this gang appeared to be she could see the deep bonds that were there; the devotion to one another - it was fierce, and while the West had a way of bringing out the worst in people, even that couldn't hide the meaning of it. They relied on each other, and she'd never had someone who needed her before. A part of her craved that.

She'd grown up knowing that her goal in life was to be a man's accessory, and nothing more than that. If she stayed, maybe she could make something of herself. Feel valuable and equal to the men around her.

But her parents… Maybe she _should_ go home. But would they welcome her with open arms after what she'd done? Or had her actions made them so angry that they'd want to disown her for good?

“I don't know what I'd do if what happened yesterday were to happen again,” _especially if it happened to you_ , she neglected to say. “But I wonder if I've already made my bed.”

“What d’ya mean?”

She raised her brows, “I left Mr. Levinson high and dry, I haven't written a word to my family for near on three months - breaking an engagement like this I'm sure has resulted in scandal for my parents. Maybe they would prefer me to stay away.”

“I can't speak to that, sweetheart, but if they do that's a mistake.”

Vanessa felt a pull at her heart and she let out a breath at the sensation. She reached out and touched her small hand to his face. “You’re a very sweet man, Arthur Morgan.” She risked running her knuckles along his jaw before she pulled away. “Jack is lucky to have you.”

 

* * *

 

“Where is my son?!”

Vanessa turned around and watched as Abigail quickly made her way over to Dutch and Arthur. "They took him, didn't they? They took my son!"

Hosea approached them, with John not far behind him, "we think the Braithwaite woman took him. Kieran saw a couple of fellers, sound like Braithwaite boys."

Abigail's hands flew to her face, "if anything happens to my son I'll--"

Dutch cut her off, "we will find him and we will bring him back to you. And we will  _kill_ any fool that has the temerity to touch one hair on his head. You have my word."

She watched as the men were round up, each carrying multiple weapons and matching expressions of determination on their faces. Arthur paused as he walked by, his gaze falling to her wrist before he nodded. "We'll get him back."

She nodded back to him, "I know." She tried her best to say it with confidence, but with everything that had happened she was terrified that she was wrong. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season!


	7. Chapter 7

The waiting was excruciating. It had been hours since Arthur and the others had left to try and get Jack back and Vanessa had run out of chores to do in order to hold her attention. She had wanted to try and help comfort Abigail but every time they spoke she felt a distinct coldness coming from her, so she highly doubted that _now_ would be the best time to try and mend that particular relationship.

She ran her fingers over her bracelet and, for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, she took a walk around camp.

“You’ll tread a hole in the ground if you keep that up, honey.”

Vanessa laughed as she reached Sadie’s tent. “I know. I just feel so anxious. Why aren’t they back yet?”

She nodded back at her, a knowing smile on her face, “here, come with me. I’ve got something that’ll take your mind off things.”

She followed her outside of the encampment and just barely kept hold of the pistol when Sadie tossed it to her. “What’s this for?”

“This.” Sadie held her gun up and fired three bullets in quick succession, each hitting the same tree off in the distance.

Vanessa crossed her arms. “You just brought me here so you could show off, didn’t you?”

The older woman chuckled, “Maybe. But maybe I also think it might be a good skill for you to gain, if you’re planning on stayin’, that is.”

She swallowed, “I’m not certain for how long, but for now… I think I will be.”

“Good. Now do your best to hit the same spot I did.”

They kept at it for the next hour. While she’d had some experience shooting a gun from accompanying her father grouse hunting, her skills were nowhere near the calibre of Sadie’s. But she was grateful for the distraction, and a part of her knew she was right; if she was going to hang with the van der Linde gang it would be wise to learn how to properly protect herself.

“Vanessa!”

She heard her name being called off in the distance, “was that John?”

She heard it again, and she quickly made her way back into camp to find Hosea, Arthur and Dutch deep in conversation. “There you are! Come here,” John gripped her forearm and pulled her towards the group.

“What’s going on? Where’s Jack?”

Hosea nodded his head in a greeting, “he wasn’t there. Braithwaite woman said she gave him to a man named Bronte over in Saint Denis.”

“Bronte?” She’d heard that name before.

John looked towards the ground, “if I don’t get that boy back safe, I’m…” He looked in the direction of Abigail. “She’ll kill us all.”

Arthur reached out to him, “Jack’ll be fine, but of course yer scared rotten. We killed all those people, stirred up all that trouble for nothin’.”

“Dutch! We got a problem!” Someone called out, but Vanessa wasn’t sure who. She turned to the entrance of the camp and saw two well-dressed men slowly approaching. The stranger who stood in front wore a grey bowler hat, and a long suit-jacket of matching colour.

“Good day, fine people. Mr. van der Linde, and Mr. Matthews, I presume.” His gaze fell upon Arthur, “ah. Mr. Morgan. Good to see you again.”

Vanessa looked in between them, and based on the tension of everyone in camp, she wondered just how contentious Arthur’s previous meeting with this man had been.

“I am Agent Milton, of Pinkerton Detective Agency. Now, this place you folk are currently calling home is a civilized land and this _thing,_ it’s done. We didn’t clear this land out just to have you live like basic human decency has yet to be invented.”

Dutch stepped towards him, “nothin’ about this place is civilized. Seems to me you’re a man who’s forgotten himself and who’s more focused on greed and his appetites.”

Agent Milton smirked, “you’re nothing more than a killer, Mr. van der Linde. But, I came here to make a deal. You come with me, and I’ll let the rest of these folk have three days head start before we hunt 'em down.”

Dutch laughed, “you came for me? Riskin’ life and limb by entering a den of low-lives and murderers?”

“I don’t wanna kill all these folk Dutch. Just you.”

Vanessa took a step backwards. She still held Sadie’s pistol in her hands but she felt terribly out of place - witnessing the death of Sean and now this, she felt like she wanted to shrink into the background, but she felt a hand touch her waist. “It’s alright, darlin’.”

She looked up, met Arthur’s gaze and tried to smile.

“And who might you be?”

Agent Milton’s voice pulled her attention back and before she could respond Hosea came towards her. “My niece. Anna Matthews.” 

Milton looked between the two of them, suspicion clear in his eyes. “Your niece? I wasn’t aware you had much of a family.” He stared _hard_ at Vanessa, as if he were waiting for her to come out and admit that they were lying, but with the presence of Hosea and Arthur next to her, she stood firm and he finally relented, turning back to Dutch.

“I’ll say it one more time. You come with me, and your friends will have three days.”

Dutch held his hands up, “in that case, gentlemen…” He stepped forward, and the sound of numerous guns being removed from their holsters resounded around her.

Miss Grimshaw held up her rifle, “I think your new friend should leave now, Dutch.”

Agent Milton backed up, “you’re all makin’ a big mistake. When I return I’ll be comin’ with fifty men, and we’ll kill every last one of you.” And then he turned, and him and his partner left the way they came in.

Everyone stayed in place, no one saying anything for a few moments as they contemplated what to do next. Arthur spoke up, “Lenny and I, we know a place. Shady Belle. Liberated an old house outside of Saint Denis.”

Dutch nodded and made a “hmm” noise in his throat. “We gotta go. Now.”

 

* * *

 

It was larger than she was anticipating. Nowhere near the size of the Braithwaite estate but it would certainly do. Vanessa crossed the threshold and found the inside to be relatively liveable. She laughed to herself, six months ago she would have thought staying here would be a nightmare, but now? After months of living outdoors this place almost seemed like a dream.

On the ride from their previous encampment to the house, she’d had a lengthy conversation with John. He told her about what had transpired when they’d arrived at Braithwaite manor, that they’d left no one but Mrs. Braithwaite alive, and that they’d set fire to the house. Vanessa felt horrified at the thought of how she’d feel if her own family home was burned to the ground, but she made sure not to voice that thought. _This is different_ , she’d told herself.

He’d explained that the plan now was to bring her along to meet this Angelo Bronte in the hopes that her presence would aid in conducting a civil conversation, and to hopefully help persuade him to return Jack to them.

She’d dropped her things in a room that she’d be sharing with both Tilly and Sadie, and she started to get ready, but as she was doing her hair she couldn’t stop a nagging feeling at the back of her mind. Bronte. She had heard that name _somewhere,_ she was sure. She just couldn’t yet put her finger on it.

When she was finished she found Dutch, John and Arthur waiting for her outside, and the four of them made their way into Saint Denis.

“Now, you let me handle this,” Dutch had said as they reached the Bronte residence. “Excuse me, sir?” He called out to the man who was standing behind the iron gate. “We have an appointment to see Mr. Bronte.”

The man grimaced, “who are you?”

Dutch didn’t answer, and instead he reached through the space in the gate, grabbing the man’s lapels tightly and pulled him forward, his face hitting the metal rods. “Get your boss down here now. We need to have a gentlemanly talk with him.” Vanessa gasped, and she worried that despite being infamous for getting the gang out of dangerous situations, she started to think that maybe it was a mistake for Dutch to come along.

They waited for a few minutes before another man left the house and signalled for the gate to be opened. Dutch entered first, wasting no time in marching towards the front door, practically bursting through the entrance.

Vanessa listened, and heard mutterings in Italian spoken around her as she stepped through and into the hall, before being lead into the parlour. She spotted a man lounging on the sofa, looking quite relaxed as he sat with a robe around him, holding a paper between his hands. Looking at him now, she remembered where she’d heard his name before.

He signalled to the four of them, silently asking them to take a seat, and as she sat down on a comfortable chair Vanessa slipped her gloves off, placing them into her lap.

Without any pretense Dutch raised his voice defiantly, “why did you take his son?”

Angelo Bronte looked up at him and gently folded the newspaper closed, placing it onto the coffee table in front of him. “Excuse me?”

“We ain’t got no problems with you sir, nor you with us. But if you wanna start one, you’ll find everyone dead in this room before you even stand up.”

He looked _angry_. “So. You come into _my_ city, into _my_ house, stinking of shit, without even having bathed, and you tell _me_ how to behave?”

Vanessa cleared her throat, drawing attention to herself. “Please, pardon my friends. But we’ve had a very trying day, and Mr. van der Linde here is merely concerned for the well-being of Mr. Marston’s son.”

Mr. Bronte looked towards her and took notice of her state of dress. “Ah, I see you have some manners. Might I suggest that you choose to associate with better company?” He smiled, and while she took offense to his words, she did her best not to show it.

“I assure you that they are most deserving of my company.”

“Hmm.” He shifted his focus back to the three men. “We will see.”

Dutch shifted in his seat, “we’re simple country folk, all we have is each other. And you have gone and took his son, over some dispute that has nothin’ to do with us.”

Angelo licked his lips, “you had nothing to do with destroying that liquor business?”

Dutch shook his head, “anything that we were involved in we were ignorant of.”

Bronte crossed his legs at the knee. “You lie. You twist your words and play like you’re innocent. You think you’re better than everyone else.” He sat forward and held his hand up, “how _dare_ you!”

The conversation was quickly derailing itself, and Vanessa felt that if she were to salvage the situation, she needed to act quickly.

“Excuse me, Signor Bronte?”

He jerked his head towards her and his face softened at having been addressed in Italian. “Ah, Signora. Please, forgive my outburst.” He nodded his head towards her and she returned the favour as she sat forward on the chair, leaning her body towards him.

“Signor. I was hoping that I wouldn't feel the need to mention this, but I believe that I owe you an apology.”

He raised his brows and reached for her hand, clasping it in his. “Do you?”

“Yes. I’ve realized that I have made an error and neglected to introduce myself to you when you allowed us into your home.”

He smirked. “And what name does an exquisite woman such as yourself go by, then?” John scoffed at his words but Angelo either didn't hear him or he paid no attention to it. He also neglected to let go of her hand, and while she wanted to pull away she didn't want to make matters worse, so she refrained from yanking it back. She took a breath, and decided to put her cards onto the table.

“Vanessa Talbot.”

Her hand immediately slipped from his grasp and he bolted upright in his chair. “Talbot?”

Her mouth twitched, “based on your reaction I'll assume you've heard of my father, Irving Talbot.”

Bronte looked horrified as he fidgeted with the button on his robe and his eyes flickered to Dutch, Arthur and John, in an attempt to gauge their reaction to her admission.

“I have.”

She smiled, a smile which she had perfected years earlier when being forced to hold a polite conversation with company she'd rather anything but keep, “now, correct me if I am mistaken, Signor Bronte, but I feel as if I recall my father speaking to his agent about dealings with a man by your same name; something about loaning the use of his land outside of Saint Denis to him for his business. And again, please, if I am wrong don't hesitate to tell me so, but I believe that loan is particularly vital to the running of said business.”

He swallowed. “I can't say I disagree.”

“I hadn't thought you would.” she could feel her three companions staring a hole into the side of her head. Without speaking to them she knew she would be facing a lot of questions about her background on the ride back into camp - but this was about getting Jack back, so whatever questions they had to throw at her, she'd be sure to catch them.

“Now, if I were to write my father and tell him that this Bronte man had been less than hospitable to his only daughter and her associates, and that Mr. Marston’s son had been taken from him without his consent, and that _you,_ Signor Bronte, had failed to return him to us… Well, I'm not sure how much you know about my father, but rest assured he would not be pleased with such a scenario.”

She stood up and took a few steps to the right of the room before turning around. She watched as everyone looked back at her before she slowly slid her gloves back on, pulling them taught against her forearms. “So, in an effort to facilitate a friendly outcome, one might suggest that you bring Mr. Marston’s son to us, and then we'll be on our way. Does that sound fair?”

Angelo stared back at her, mouth agape, clearly dumbfounded at what had just occurred. She swallowed, worried she might have seriously misjudged the situation, but then he laughed, _loudly._

“Oh, Signora Talbot,” he waved his finger at her, “I like you.”

He clapped his hands together and called out to one of his men who was situated in the hallway, ordering him to fetch Jack and bring him into the parlor.

“And you, you have a wild woman on your hands, sir.” He reached out towards Dutch, extending a hand to shake in agreement.

Dutch nodded at him before he looked Vanessa up and down. “That we do.”

Vanessa heard the sound of tiny footsteps barrelling down the stairs as she swiftly moved out of the room. “Mr. Marston!” She quickly walked towards him before she scooped him up, holding him to her chest. “Miss Talbot!” He yelled in her ear before he held onto her shoulders. “What are you doing here?”

She didn't get a chance to answer before her companions followed behind them, and not wanting to spoil the reunion between father and son, she handed Jack off to John, and she felt elated when he was affectionate towards him. “I’m so glad to see you!”

She waited in the foyer as Dutch finished his conversation with Bronte, and before they exited his estate she heard an invitation to a party at the Mayor's house being extended to them. She worried as to the motives of such an invitation, but she wasn't going to question it in front of Mr. Bronte.

Dutch held his arm out to her to grasp as they were guided to the door, and as the gate creaked shut behind them on their way out, Dutch leaned in and she felt his hot breath on her ear.

“You and I need to have a private conversation when we get back.”

 

* * *

 

"So, your daddy."

Vanessa breathed deeply as Dutch poured two small glasses of whiskey, offering one to her. She reached for it and took a sip, the alcohol burning as it slid down her throat. As soon as they'd arrived back Abigail had run towards them, thanking each of them profusely, including Vanessa, and it hadn't taken long for Javier to pull out his guitar in celebration. She'd wanted to join them, but Dutch had dragged her off to a secluded room to have it out with her.

"My father."

He leaned against a table and took a sip of his drink. "What was his name?"

"Irving."

"That's right. And his profession?"

Vanessa felt uneasy - like she was being interrogated for a crime she didn't commit. "That depends on the day. His uncle owned some land in and around Saint Denis, and when he passed on he had no heir, so that land went to my father, which is why I knew of his deal with Angelo Bronte. He also inherited some successful oil wells, but the bulk of his fortune comes from running our estate back home, along with other investments."

He looked at her and furrowed his brows. "Why were you on the train that day?"

"Oh, I would've thought you'd heard by now." She placed her drink onto the table and took a seat on a nearby wooden chair, "I was sent here to marry a man with an estate outside of Blackwater. But I couldn't go through with it. So when the chance to leave presented itself, I took it."

"Must've made your daddy pretty angry."

"I may have. I don't know. I haven't written home since."

He smiled, "you've gone three months without sending word that you're even alive?"

She hadn't thought of it that way. "I suppose."

"Well, I'd ask you one thing - you do your best to rebuild that bridge. I don't know where we're headed after this, but if we can use an ally like your daddy, I ain't lettin' that chance go."

Vanessa nodded, and she took her chance to slip out of the room and end the conversation before he could stop her. 

When she reached the hallway she could hear singing spilling in from outside and she smiled at the sound. "Nice, isn't it?" She turned and saw Arthur standing at the rear entrance. The door was open and he held a cigarette in his hands, the smoke filtering into the air as he breathed outward.

Her heels clicked against the floorboards as she made her way towards him. "It is."

He ran his spare palm over his face and she couldn't help but stare at him, and he caught her eyes when he looked back. "What'd Dutch have'ta say?"

"He wants me to write to my father. I think he's hoping that if Agent Milton causes more trouble that he can help us."

"Hmm. Can he?"

Vanessa raised her brows and leaned against the wall. "I'm not sure. Maybe."

They stayed silent for a few moments before Arthur shifted his feet. "I think Dutch was damn surprised at ya today."

She scoffed, "was he?"

He smirked at her in return, "sure. Look at ya. You look so sweet 'n innocent. Like a proper lady."

She reached out and touched his arm, "aren't I?"

His smile fell and he licked his lips as he put his cigarette out on the door frame, flicking the butt outside. Her breath hitched as he took a step closer to her and he placed his left hand on her arm while he cupped the side of her face with the other. "You are." 

Her heart pounded against her ribcage as he leaned in and placed a kiss on her forehead. He let his lips linger against her skin before he pulled back and he stared down at her. "A mighty fine one."

 


	8. Chapter 8

She took a deep breath and turned the corner, spotting Abigail sitting on the front step, watching as Jack played a game with Uncle close by. Vanessa walked towards her, her heels kicking up dirt beneath them. “Mrs. Marston?”

Abigail looked up at her, a confused expression in her face. “wha-- oh. Just call me Abigail, please.”

“Alright.” Vanessa motioned towards the step, “do you mind if I sit with you?”

Abigail gave no objection and Vanessa moved to sit down, taking care to sit gently on the wood - it looked worn, and she was a bit worried it wouldn't hold.

She'd been wondering the best way to approach this conversation. It had been a long time coming, and the more she put it off the more anxiety she felt about it. But she'd dragged it out as long as she could, and the air desperately needing cleaning.

“Abigail, I worry you and I have taken a misstep in getting to know one another.”

She let out a short laugh in response, “ain't that right.”

Vanessa let a smile pull at her lips, “I hope you don't feel that I'm speaking out of turn, but I wonder if I've given you the wrong impression of me, and of what kind of friendship I have with John.”

Abigail turned towards her, “I know what's goin’ on, I ain't blind.”

She was angry, and Vanessa felt like an idiot for not saying something sooner.

“Of course you're not. But what you've witnessed, there's nothing but innocence there. I have no intentions of taking anything from you, be it either your man or your son, so I never meant to give that idea. And this is my doing, I should have explained sooner, but I left a brother back home - an older brother, Wesley. As soon as I said my goodbyes I missed him terribly. And you see, I'm so fond of John because he reminds me of him.”

Abigail pursed her lips, “honest?”

“Of course. Both in attitude and looks, a bit. Wesley's a year or so older, but he has a similar humour and the same matching dark hair although, well - he bathes regularly so that part's different.” Vanessa couldn't help but laugh at her observation, and she was pleased to hear Abigail join her.

“It's part of his charm.”

Vanessa looked at her, and she could see that Abigail cared deeply about him, but she was also aware that there was unresolved tension between them. From what she could gather, without prying too much into business that wasn't hers, she'd learned about John's past transgression in abandoning Abigail and Jack for near on a year, and that his return had been both a surprise and only partially welcomed by the gang, Arthur in particular.

Before their conversation about Eliza and Isaac, Vanessa had wondered why he held a bit of a grudge towards him, but of course now she'd understood. From his standpoint John had abandoned his family, and Arthur must have been both worried that their fate would equal that of his own late-family and angry that he was squandering two potentially meaningful relationships.

And Vanessa agreed.

“I know John doesn't always show his emotions, but last night when we were at Angelo Bronte’s estate and Jack came running down the stairs well, you should have seen his face; he was so happy to see his son.”

Abigail smiled and placed her hand on top of Vanessa's. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I'd like us to be friends, if we can be.”

 

* * *

 

She’d been lucky, whoever used to own this house had left behind a (mostly) intact vanity. The mirror was cracked in one of the corners, but after a good wipe-down it was completely usable.

When Vanessa placed the damp cloth down she glanced at herself in the mirror. She’d previously only had access to a small, hand-held compact so this was the first time she’d had a good look at herself since the day she boarded that train. She was un-surprised to see the tired face staring back at her. She’d had an interesting few months, and truth be told she was looking forward to attending the party at the Mayor’s house, to spend the night in a familiar setting for once.

“What are you going to wear?”

Vanessa looked into the mirror and saw the reflection of Tilly sitting on the bed behind her. “Ah,” She turned around in the chair and looked towards her luggage. “The big one.” She watched as Tilly stood up from her place and walk towards the largest trunk. “I had a dress made before I left, specifically for an occasion like this. I was wondering if I’d ever get the chance to actually wear it.”

The latches of the trunk clicked open and as she lifted the lid Tilly let out a gasp. “Oh! Vanessa, it’s beautiful!”

She reached for the fabric and pulled it out, a swooshing sound being heard as Tilly held it up, allowing it to unfurl itself. Vanessa remembered the day she’d first tried it on very clearly.

_“Make no mistake, when Mr. Levinson sees you in this he’ll feel like the luckiest man in the world.” She knew her mother was trying to be kind to her, to encourage her to be excited about her upcoming union, but she was still struggling. Vanessa only had three days left until she was to be shipped off, and in a matter of weeks she would no longer be known as Miss Talbot. The thought scared her immensely,_

_“Will he, Mama? I’ve been worried that ---”_

_“Nonsense! Nothing to be worried about.” Her mother touched her hand to gold fabric, “Now, let’s get you out of this and head back home before your father starts to worry.”_

Vanessa sighed, shaking the memory from her mind and she forced a smile, “after tonight I’ll loan it to you. You deserve a chance to wear it.”

She took her time preparing herself. It had been a long while since she’d been to a gathering like this, and she wanted to make sure she looked her best. It was a bit disappointing not having all of the help that she had previously been used to, but she did her best with what was available. She’d kept both her hair and makeup simple, in part because she was still learning how to do that on her own, but also because she thought her dress allowed her to. And when she finally stepped into it, she felt she looked more like the Vanessa Talbot that the rest of the world was used to.

She took care as she descended slowly down the stairs, holding onto the railings and pulling up the bottom of her dress so as not to trip, and when she reached the bottom she found herself feeling a bit nervous. Mary-Beth and Karen had taken Dutch, Hosea, Arthur and Bill into town during that afternoon to help them find appropriate clothing for the night’s festivities, but not before Dutch pulled Vanessa towards him and all but warned her that she needed to impress Saint Denis’ high society to secure his faith in her.  As used to high-brow events as she was, this was an entirely new situation to her, and she was anxious that she’d do something to upset him. But she tried to rid herself of that thought, and she fiddled with the lace of the dress along her bustline, straightening it out before she continued her way down the hall.

The gown she wore was one of the nicest she’d ever had made. It was pure gold, and the rich colour stood out against her pale skin. The trim was lace, as were the sleeves, and the shoulders of the gown almost slid off of her own. The finishing touches were golden applique of lace flowers covering both the bodice and the bottom half of her skirt. She felt confident that she looked the part, now she just hoped the night would go smoothly.

She heard murmurs coming from the reception room, and as she entered her breath caught in her throat.

“My, don’t you men clean up nicely.”

They surely did. Karen and Mary-Beth had outdone themselves, had she not previously met the four of them she would have no idea that the men standing before her were outlaws, plain and simple. They each wore black evening jackets with pristine white shirts sat beneath, and the typical bowtie that had long been in style. Vanessa noted that Dutch was the only one of them to be wearing a hat, and she wanted to laugh because _of course_ he needed to stand out.

But Arthur, the sight of him made her pulse quicken. She had no idea the last time, if ever, he had had the chance to wear clothes such as this, but in her opinion he was absolutely _made_ for it. She also noted that he must have gotten another trim while in town, and his hair had been slicked back, a style which suited his face.

Hosea smiled and stepped towards her, “and you, my dear, look breathtaking.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss on her cheek before stepping back. “Makes a feller glad he can pretend he’s your uncle.”

She laughed as she reached out and straightened his tie, “that’s very kind of you to say.”

She’d wanted to talk to Arthur, but before she had a chance Dutch directed that they needed to leave if they were going to make it on time.

 

* * *

 

The night had been interesting, to say the least. When they’d first arrived Arthur, Dutch and Vanessa had been ushered into a conversation with Angelo Bronte. He’d seemed pleased to see Vanessa again, much to her dismay, but the conversation had concluded with Bronte insinuating that Dutch and his gang were animal fuckers, a suggestion that was not taken kindly by Dutch, despite his holding his tongue in response.

They’d dispersed after that. Vanessa easily made her way throughout the crowd, and so far as she could tell she’d ingratiated herself with more than a few attendees. She’d eventually found her way to Arthur, and after a brief conversation with the Mayor, Dutch had instructed the two of them to enter the house in order to try and find information that could maybe be of use to them.

They’d made their way upstairs without being noticed, but she paused as they heard the footsteps of someone down the hall. They watched as a servant closed a desk drawer, securely locking it before he left the room.

“Come on,” Arthur motioned for her to follow him, and as they entered the study he quietly shut the door behind them.

She watched as Arthur tried to pry the desk open, and she bit her lip to stop from smiling, “so, be honest with me. Do you often attend parties just to snoop through peoples’ things?”

He let out a quiet laugh and grabbed a letter opener, jamming it into the top of the drawer, “nah. I only do this when I’m tryna’ impress a lady.” The drawer popped open, and he smirked at her as he opened it wide. He looked at the contents and pulled out a book flipping through the pages, and a letter that had been placed between the pages slipped out.

“What does it say?”

He cleared his throat, “‘Mr. Leviticus Cornwall. Top secret, extremely confidential.’ That’s interesting.” He folded the letter and tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Who’s Leviticus Cornwall?”

He closed the drawer and his eyes met hers, “just another man who’s given us trouble.”

Vanessa touched her fingers to her collarbone, “so nothing out of the ordinary, then?”

He let out a short chuckle, “no.”

A loud explosion sounded through the room, and the suddenness of it caused her to jump. She walked quickly towards the window, worry shown over her face, but as she peaked outside she instantly relaxed. “Fireworks.”

Arthur came near her, and she felt the fabric of his jacket rub against her arm as he leaned forward to watch the display. “Don’t see that often.”

She turned her head to look at him, and she couldn’t help but rake her eyes over his face. He was so handsome, and it boggled her mind that he seemed to be so ignorant to that fact.

“I can feel ya starin’, darlin’.”

Vanessa let out a shaky breath, “I’m sorry.” But she couldn’t pull herself to look away. She reached out, and touched her index finger over the scar that ran along his chin. “How did you get this?”

He jerked slightly, not expecting her to touch him, but he relaxed as he turned to meet her gaze. His voice was low when he responded, “a coach robbery. Got distracted and I missed a knife.”

She watched as she let her finger trace a line from his chin down to the collar of his shirt, and his adam's apple bobbed as she touched him there. “Vanessa.”

Arthur’s hands gripped her shoulders and her chest rose when she felt one strap slide off of her shoulder. His eyes darted to her breasts, and the sudden urge to have his mouth cover her nipples caused a streak of arousal to flood her core. “Arthur.”

He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat as he gently pushed her against the wall, trapping her with his arms. “Sweetheart, you look…” He licked his lips and placed his fingers to the bottom of her throat, his palm resting on her chest. Her heart was beating so quickly, she was certain he must have felt her pulse through his hand.

He swallowed, “yer too good for the likes of me, I don’t---”

She shook her head, “no! Don’t say that, Arthur.” She clutched at his jacket, pulling him closer to her. “I want you.”

He looked surprised at her admission, and she felt his hand slide downward, stopping to cup her breast as well as he could with her corset being in the way. She whined at the sensation, and he leaned his head down towards her. “Oh, darlin.”

His lips ghosted over hers in a kiss so light she worried she had hallucinated it. He pulled back, eyeing her with a silent question, and when she nodded in return he connected their mouths again in earnest.

She felt lightheaded. His hand continued to cup her breast and she held onto his jacket so tightly that at the back of her mind, she worried that she might tear the fabric.

His lips felt so soft against her own and she gasped as she felt his thigh slip in between her legs, spreading them apart.

His hands flew to her hair, moving it out of the way so that he could latch his mouth onto her neck and he sucked _hard_. Vanessa let out a moan and held onto his arms to stop her knees from buckling.

A cough came from the opposite side of the room and with Arthur still attached to her she struggled to look in the direction of the sound. “Arthur.”

He let out a low groan and it took everything in her to reach out and touch the side of his face. “Arthur, there’s someone…”

He quickly detached himself from her and turned around, his eyes locking with those of the servant they’d previously seen in the very same room. All three stayed silent for a few moments and Vanessa quickly composed herself and tried to think of something to say.

She smiled and took a few steps towards the man, “we are terribly sorry.” She looked back to Arthur and mouthed “money?” He nodded and reached into his pocket before he crossed the room. “For your trouble.” The man smiled, happily taking the fee from him. “Of course.”

The two of them quickly left the room and made their way back towards the stairs. Arthur spoke first, “we should probably get back to Dutch.”

She breathed inward, “probably.” She licked her lips, and she was delighted when she noticed Arthur’s gaze had fallen back onto her neck. She stepped forward and touched her hands to his lapels before she pulled him in once more, depositing a chaste kiss on his lips before stepping away from him.

She looked him up and down and made no effort to hide her gaze before she smiled and met his eyes. “I’ve had a wonderful evening, Mr. Morgan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I did the best job at describing her outfit so I wanted to link you to a photo of it: https://www.instagram.com/p/BiVOXDQHYGv/
> 
> I think it's beautiful.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just want to give a reminder that while I'm following the story, I will change the order of certain events.

She stared down at the piece of paper in front of her. She’d been at it for what felt like hours, trying to think of the right words to say. She knew Dutch had suggested that she write her father for his own reasons, but the more she thought about it the more she knew he was right. 

She knew that her parents cared about her, and she was fully aware that part of the reason they’d brokered her betrothal in the first place was because they wanted what they thought was best for her. She _knew_ that. But she was hurt that they paid no attention to her worries. Yet, regardless of their ignorance, as their daughter she owed them the decency of at least letting them know that she was alive and (relatively) well.

Composing her letter was easier said than done, however. She found herself having severe writer’s block when it came to trying to explain herself to them. 

**_Dearest Mama and Papa,_ **

**_I know you must be quite angry with me, and I am sorry for the trouble that I have likely put you both in. I want you to know that was never my intention._ **

Vanessa had thought about going into some detail about how she made her escape that day, but she didn’t think that her telling her parents that she’d left with a group of men intent on robbing her would suffice to quash any potential fear they felt over her situation.

She dipped her pen back into the inkwell, and the sound of the point scratching along the page could be heard throughout the room.

_**I fear that I cannot properly explain my reasoning for my actions in such a way that you will understand them, so I hope that my telling you that I was deeply unhappy at the thought of being Mrs. Levinson is enough for you to hear. I could not go through with it, and for that I know that I have disappointed you both. I am sorry.** _

She licked her lips as she stared down at the words. They felt incredibly insufficient, but she wasn’t sure what else to say to them.

_**Please know that I am with friends, and while I cannot tell you my exact location, know that I will do my best to write you regularly.** _

_**Your loving daughter,** _

_**Vanessa** _

She proofread it, and as she reached for an envelope a thought came to her.

_**P.S. I promise that I am safe and in good hands. Please do not send anyone to look for me.** _

She folded the page in half and stuffed it into the envelope before running her tongue along the seam and pressing it shut. Vanessa wrote as neatly as she could when it came to writing her parents’ address, but for the return address she simply wrote, “Vanessa.”

She took a deep breath, the thought of her parents receiving her letter made her feel almost as terrified as she did that day in Rhodes. It was silly, she knew, the worst thing that could happen would be that her parents would disinherit her, but even then, she was already living out on her own. She knew that if it came down to it that she could manage without her parents' money - but still. Her actions that day had potentially changed the course of her whole life, and that was a scary realization.

She left her room and went down the stairs, intent on finding Sadie to ask her if she could borrow her horse.

“Of course, honey, be my guest.”

Vanessa had never ridden Bob before. She was a bit nervous as she approached him but after a few pats and a carrot as a bribe he seemed content with letting her swing her legs over the saddle.

The ride into Saint Denis was quiet, and she was grateful for that. She’d spent more time with Sadie, working on her shooting and it had certainly improved, but she wasn’t sure how ready she would be if someone tried to ambush her while she was on her own.

Bob’s horseshoes clicked along the cobblestones as they made their way to the post office. She made quick work of sending her letter off, not wanting to allow herself any time to change her mind, and as she exited the building she felt a wave of relief wash over her. She should have done this a long time ago. Her family deserved to at least know that she was okay.

She guided Bob down the street and motioned for him to take a left-hand turn, and that’s when she spotted him at the end of the road. She couldn’t yet make out who he was speaking with, but as she got closer she realized it was Evelyn Miller, a man who she became acquainted with a few days prior while at the party at the Mayor’s house.

“Ah, Miss Matthews! How lovely to see you again.” She smiled down at him as Arthur approached her, holding out his hand to help her down from Sadie’s horse.

“Mr. Miller, I hope life has been treating you well.”

“It has, it has.”

She looked towards two strangers who looked to be accompanying Evelyn and she motioned towards them. “It’s nice to meet you, my name is Anna Matthews.”

Before they could answer her Evelyn cut them off, “may I introduce Rains Fall and his son, Eagle Flies.”

Rains Fall spoke first, looking between Arthur and Evelyn. “We saw you at the party. You were both upstairs.”

Her eyes widened momentarily, wondering just _how much_ they saw of them that night. She heard Arthur let out a breathy laugh from beside her, “you have great powers of observation, sir.”

Rains Fall was not in the mood for levity. “Yes, it's my people - if we even are much of a people anymore. We have signed treaties, and they have been broken. We have been moved, and punished, and now we are told we must move again.”

Evelyn reached out to him, “clearly breaking the treaty that was signed three years ago.”

Vanessa furrowed her brows. Living up North and in a large city she had only heard a small amount of the plight of the Native American people, but she’d never met someone who was living through it. She felt very under-informed on what had been going on.

Arthur shook his head, “it’s a bad business.”

Mr. Miller nodded in agreement and responded, “it’s to do with oil.”

Vanessa looked towards him, “oil? What do you mean?”

“I believe there were some prospectors who were on their land months ago. They filed papers with Leviticus Cornwall and the government claiming there’s oil underneath their land. If we could find that document…”

Arthur sighed, “you want me to steal it, I’m guessin’?”

Evelyn laughed, “well, obviously _they_ can't.”

Arthur tipped his hat, “gentleman, I’d love to help you with your predicament but…”

Vanessa reached out and grabbed onto his arm, cutting him off. “Arthur, why not?”

His face softened as he looked down at her, and he touched his hand to her cheek, “sweetheart, I’ve got problems of my own. I’ve got lawmen in two different states lookin’ for me. I can’t go stealin’ government documents.”

She frowned, but she understood. “Mr. Miller?”

“Hmm?”

“What prospectors, exactly? Do you know? The reason I ask is that I might know how to get what you need, without having to shoot our way in.”

 

* * *

 

A few days after their conversation with Evelyn Miller, the two of them had met up with Eagle Flies near the oil field. He’d directed them to a Foreman by the name of Danbury, and he’d pointed in the direction of the building where the document they were after, the Leland Oil Development report, should be kept in.

They’d come up with a plan. Eagle Flies had noted that carts continuously moved in and out of the oil refinery, so it was decided that Vanessa would drive one in, with Arthur hiding in the back. It would be her job to cajole a meeting with Danbury, while Arthur snuck into the office to search for the documents. It was risky, but they’d promised to help, and Vanessa felt terrible about their situation - not to mention she also wanted to inquire into the business practices of her father's oil wells. She made mind to write to him again, hoping that if he _was_ currently participating in the annexation of land that didn't belong to him, that she could make him see reason.

“You sure you wanna do this?”

Vanessa held her mirrored compact up to her face, making sure that her hair was still neatly done. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

Arthur's lip quirked upward, “maybe because yer about to commit a crime against the government?”

She pinched her cheeks in an attempt to add to her blush. “Well, then I ought to be sure I look my best. I can’t have them misrepresenting my image to the authorities.”

He let out a deep laugh and shook his head as he looked towards the ground. “Yer full of surprises, ain’t ya?”

She bit her lip to stop from smiling and pointed towards the wagon. “Go on, get in there.”

Vanessa had never driven a wagon before, but she managed alright, and when she pulled up to the gate a man held his hand out, signalling for her to stop.

“Well hey there, Miss. What can I do ya for?”

She cleared her throat, “I’m here for a meeting with Mr. Danbury. Can you direct me to his office, please?”

The man looked at her with suspicion and waited for a moment to respond to her, his hesitation creating an anxious bubble within her chest. He eyed her up and down, and when his gaze fell back onto her face she smiled wide. “Well?”

His hand flew to the back of his neck, and suddenly he looked embarrassed. “That way, miss.” He pointed in the direction she needed to go and she thanked him, urging the wagon onward.

She stopped as she reached the particular building she was looking for, taking care to park the wagon as close to the entrance as possible. She stepped out, making her way inside and she felt surprised to find no one there, but she spotted a bell placed onto the front desk. She tapped it, and the ping reverberated throughout the room.

She heard footsteps come from above, and after what sounded like some stumbling around, she saw the figure of a man making his way down the staircase.

“Oh,” he looked surprised to see her there, and when he reached the bottom of the stairs he nodded towards her, “can I help you?”

Vanessa licked her lips, “please.” She reached her hand out, extending a greeting. “I’m looking for a man named Mr. Danbury. Could you help me locate him?”

He reached for her hand, kissing her knuckles before letting her go. “I’m Mr. Danbury.”

She smiled, “wonderful. My name is Elisabeth Fox and I’ve been sent from head office. I was told that I’m to make an inspection of the facilities… they did tell you I was to be arriving today, did they not?”

Danbury looked thoroughly confused and he shook his head, “no, “m’am, I wasn’t aware---”

She groaned, “oh, that’ll be that Mr. Travers’ fault. I don’t know how many times I have to remind him of things, he always forgets!” She laughed and took a step towards him, “well, I suppose we’ll have to do this without proper notice then, my apologies.” She reached out and ran her hand along his lapel, “but, since you were unaware that I’d be here today, I promise to be gentle in my remarks.” She gazed up at him and smiled, hoping that she’d catch him with her hook.

He flushed and let out a short, nervous laugh. “Alright. Where should we start?”

He lead her through the exit, and when they passed the wagon she made sure to speak loudly enough so that Arthur would know he was clear to go inside.

Danbury seemed to relish in showing her around the refinery, and throughout the tour Vanessa continuously peaked back towards the office, looking for the signal her and Arthur had agreed upon - the blinds being fully raised. It took a bit longer than she had anticipated but when she saw it, she cut their meeting short.

“Mr. Danbury, I am impressed with all of the work that you’ve done here. I’ll be sure to recommend a promotion when I get back.”

He grinned and held his hand to his chest, “Oh, thank you Mrs. Fox!”

She quickly said her goodbyes and made her way back towards the wagon, hoping that she hadn’t jumped the gun and that Arthur was, indeed, safely in the back. She slowly turned the cart, just in case she had been wrong and Arthur had to make a running jump, but she breathed a sigh of relief when no such commotion seemed forthcoming.

She waited until they were a good ways away from the refinery before calling out to him.

“Arthur?"

She heard rummaging behind her as Arthur emerged from his hiding place, holding papers in his hands. “I’m startin’ to think I should bring you on every job.”

Vanessa turned her head to look back at him, his hair dishevelled from being underneath the canvas, “do you?”

“Course. Seem to get shot at a lot less, at least.”

She giggled and turned to look back at the rode, and a feeling of warmth flooded her chest.

The two of them headed back to their meeting place with Eagle Flies, and when they reached him he seemed amazed that their plan at worked so smoothly, and if she was honest - he wasn't the only one.

 

* * *

 

She watched as Arthur tossed more sticks onto the fire, allowing the flame to climb. The sun was beginning to set, and she was grateful for the heat as she held her hands out to absorb it.

"Lemme ask ya somethin'."

"Hmm?" She looked towards him, a slight orange glow flickered against his cheek. "What is it?"

He adjusted his position on the ground, stretching one leg out and bending the other before he rested his elbow on the latter. "You sure you ain't had experience at any of this before? Or are ya just naturally good at deceivin' people?" He smiled as he finished his question, and she could see the humour in his words.

She couldn't help but respond in kind with her own smirk, and she felt a blush make it's way to her cheeks. "I promise I haven't... although I will say that what I do have experience in is talking to wealthy people who all think they're of higher worth than the person beside them. So, I suppose I have experience in playing mind games."

Arthur raised his brows, "is that what it's like bein' rich? Maybe I got lucky, then."

Vanessa let out a short laugh, "I've made it sound worse than it is, I'm sure. That's only a small part of it." As she finished her sentence her smile faltered, and he scooted closer towards her.

"You alright?"

"Of course, I just..." She sighed, turning her gaze to the fire, and it crackled before she continued. "I miss home a bit. Not enough to -- I mean, I'm not looking to go back, at least not yet. This has just been a whirlwind for me."

She felt his hand touch her thigh and she placed her palm over his. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

She shook her head and looked back at him, "don't be. It wasn't my choice to leave home but it  _was_ my choice to leave with you." She licked her lips and squeezed his hand in hers. "And I certainly don't regret that."

His free hand made its way to the back of her neck and he smiled before he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her lips. "That makes me very happy."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't as long as I originally intended, but I'm hoping to post another update tomorrow to make up for it.


	10. Chapter 10

She tightened the belt around her waist and ran her hands over her skirt before she looked at herself in the vanity mirror. She turned to the side to take a look at her profile and she frowned as she noticed that she’d lost some weight. She certainly wasn’t eating regular meals like she had been back home, but it alarmed her a bit to know that she’d been under-eating so much. Although, taking a look at some of her other camp-mates she knew that they too struggled with staying properly fed. She’d have to get better at that if she was going to stay here.

She made her way down the stairs and outside, walking towards the campfire where she found Tilly chatting with Sadie.

“Good morning!” She smiled towards them and took a seat on a log, happily accepting a cup of coffee that Sadie extended towards her.

The two women said their greetings in return and Vanessa made a “mmm” noise as the warm liquid made its way down her throat. She flittered her eyes around the property and noted that a few people were nowhere to be seen.

“Where is everyone?”

Sadie cleared her throat, “John and Javier went into town to find some more leads. And Dutch and some others went to meet with the O’Driscolls.”

She raised her brows, “really? That’s surprising.” She looked towards the horses, and noticed that Arthur’s was missing.

“Did Arthur go with them? I haven’t seen him this morning.”

Tilly burst out laughing and after a few seconds Sadie joined her. Vanessa brushed her hair behind her ears, “what did I say?”

Tilly leaned forward and placed her hand on Vanessa’s knee, “nothing. We were just wondering how fast you’d notice that Arthur isn’t here.”

A deep blush crept onto her face before she could look away and she stumbled on her words, “oh, I… well it’s just that I--”

Sadie held her hand up, “it’s alright, honey. You ain’t gotta be embarrassed. Arthur’s a good man.”

She knew that she _shouldn’t_ be embarrassed but she was hard-pressed to stop herself. She groaned, and heard the two woman giggle as she covered her eyes to collect herself. “Have I been that obvious? I’d thought I’d done a fair job at hiding it.”

Tilly smirked, “maybe from the men but they aren’t as smart as us.”

Vanessa looked between the two of them, “please don’t tell anyone. Arthur’s been very kind to me and I find myself wanting to spend more and more time with him. I’m _very_ fond of him. But I’m trying not to look too much into it.”

Sadie tilted her head, “why not?”

She took another sip of her coffee before responding, “I just don’t quite know what he’s looking for. I don’t want to assume.”

Tilly and Sadie shared a look before the former spoke, “we won’t. But if you ask me, he looks quite sweet on you.”

After taking her time to relax in order to properly wake up, she spent most of the day doing miscellaneous tasks, before Abigail came to her and asked if she wouldn’t mind looking after Jack for a while so she could have some rest.

“Of course.”

Jack had boundless energy that evening, and his running around distracted her so much that she almost missed noticing Dutch and Micah returning to camp without Arthur following behind them.

Vanessa handed Jack off to Hosea before she approached them. “Did Arthur not come back with you?”

Dutch looked down at her and he opened his mouth to speak before he shut it, clearly unsure of what to say. “He stayed behind.”

She placed her hands on her hips and eyed him, “with the O’Driscolls? Why would he do that?”

Micah stepped towards her, and his presence made her feel very uneasy. “It’s none of your business why, but maybe he hit it off with one of them O’Driscoll girls; wanted to spend more time with her, if ya get my meaning.”

He gave her no chance to retort before he moved passed her, making sure to run into her shoulder as he did so. She clutched at it, as if her hand could stop it from hurting, before she turned back to Dutch.

“Where is Arthur?”

He sighed and looked down at her, “don’t worry about it.”

Vanessa tried but she was unable to get more of an answer out of him. She was worried. It made no sense as to why Arthur wouldn’t have returned with Micah and Dutch, and her mind ran a mile a minute thinking of all of the horrible things that could have happened to him to make him not return.

She tried to find John for help, to ask for advice, but he was nowhere to be found, he must have decided to spend the night in Saint Denis. Charles. He would help her - but she was deeply disappointed to find that he’d gone out hunting and had yet to return.

“Sadie!”

She found her reading a book in their shared room, and her yell seemed to startle the woman.

“Vanessa? What’s wrong?” She placed her book down onto the bed and stepped towards her.

“Arthur’s missing.”

“Missing? What do you mean?”

She felt frantic, and it took a lot of energy for her to slow down and have her words make sense. “Dutch and Micah came back from their meeting with the O’Driscolls, but Arthur didn’t come back with them. I tried asking them where he is but they won't tell me.” She looked around the room for her coat, and she quickly grabbed it and put it on. “It’s been _hours_ since they left. I have to go find him.”

“Not by yourself, you don’t.”

 

* * *

 

They hitched their horses within a cluster of trees, keeping them out of sight before the two of them crept closer towards the O’Driscoll gang. “How many do you think there are?”

Sadie looked around and whispered, “twenty. Maybe. It’s a bit dark to tell.”

Vanessa heard the sound of a door opening about fifty feet away, and before it closed she thought she caught a glimpse of a man with light brown hair. She tapped Sadie on the shoulder and whispered, “I think he’s in there.”

“I’m not sure how we should do this. There’s a lot of men against just the two of us.”

She racked her brain trying to think of what to do. Could one of them cause a distraction while the other went in to get Arthur? No. Who knows what the men would do to whoever did that, that was too risky.

“Okay, Sadie. I want you to stay here. You have a good line of sight for the whole camp. Do you see that window on the side of the building where Arthur is? I’m going to try to sneak around, hopefully unnoticed. Maybe I can climb through and bring Arthur out that same way.”

Sadie shook her head, “that’s crazy, you can’t go in there by yourself. Let me.”

“No, I’ll go. If you went and something was to happen to you while you’re in there I can’t promise that I’m a good enough shot to watch your back. But I know you are for me.”

She seemed tepid to the idea but she slowly nodded her head in agreement. “Okay. But you be careful, honey. I _mean_ it.”

"I will, I promise. Just don't start shooting unless you hear me scream."

She needed to be quiet. She left Sadie behind their cover and and stepped back into the trees, slowly making her way towards the building that she desperately hoped Arthur was inside of. She waited until no one was nearby before practically crawling on all fours towards the window. When she reached her destination she stood up, touching her fingers to the windowsill. She tried to peek inside but the glass was severely dirty, and she could only make out a small fireplace on the opposite wall.

She gave a tiny push, trying very hard to slide the window open in relative silence. When it opened she swung one of her legs over the windowsill, and she slipped inside surprising easily. She thought about closing the window, but she decided against it, just in case they needed an extra few seconds to escape.

At first she didn’t see him, and she wanted to cry thinking she’d risked getting caught to no avail, but when she turned the corner her stomach fell. He was there, hanging upside down from the ceiling. She quickly covered her mouth to stifle a gasp, and the sound made him open his eyes.

She held her finger to her mouth, signalling that he needed to be quiet, and she was extremely thankful that he complied without hesitation.

She stepped towards him, finally noticing the blood that pooled around his shoulder. “Oh, Arthur,” she whispered as she stopped in front of him, bending down so her head was level with his. “I’m so sorry.”

She could tell that he wanted to speak but she put her hand to his mouth. “Not now.”

She looked upwards and saw the chains fastened around his ankles. “Fuck,” she cursed quietly, and her eyes darted around the room, trying to find something to open them with. She heard a grunt coming from Arthur, and in his haze he pointed towards a hook next to the door.

She scurried towards it, and right as she reached the door it swung open, almost hitting her as she lunged behind it.

“Ah, Mr. Morgan. You’re still here, I see.” Without looking the man pushed the door shut behind him.

Her heart pounded so hard against her chest, she worried that she was close to having a heart attack. He sauntered towards Arthur, and she realized that this man hadn’t spotted her yet. It was a miracle, she thought, as she tried to look for anything that she could use to defend herself from him.

She saw nothing, and her hand touched her stomach, coming into contact with her belt. She looked towards Arthur, hoping that without speaking he’d understand what she needed him to do.

“Wha… why would I leave when I’m so fond of ya?”

Vanessa wanted to praise him but there was no time. As he spoke she unhooked her belt, unwrapping it from around her waist.

The man laughed and pushed his fingers into Arthur’s shoulder, causing him to scream in pain. “Oh, I’m sorry. Does that hurt?”

Without thinking she hurriedly positioned herself behind him, looping her belt around his neck and she _pulled_ him back towards her. She had surprised him, and in his surprise she managed to throw him off balance, and he fell to the ground, rolling onto his stomach.

She wanted to scream as she jumped onto his back, she was so terrified, but her hands moved faster than she could process. She slid the leather through it’s fastener and she pulled as hard as she could, his neck craning back in the process. A gargled sound escaped his throat and in a matter of seconds his movements stopped, his face dropping into the dirt.

She felt lightheaded and she wanted to vomit, but she understood that she didn’t have time for this as she stepped off of him. She turned back to Arthur who looked like he was trying to smile, "that's my girl."

Vanessa let out a breath before she made her way back towards the door, yanking the key off of its hook.

She spotted a chair in the corner of the room and dragged it beside him. She stepped up and on it before she reached towards the chains, keeping an eye on the O'Driscoll blacked out on the ground. She whispered down to Arthur, “I’m sorry, but you’re going to drop.”

He did, and he let out a quiet groan as his shoulder hit the ground. She stepped down from the chair and bent beside him, “I’m so sorry but we need to hurry and get out of here. Do you think you can make it through the window? Sadie’s out there waiting for us.”

It was almost painful to watch as he stumbled to his feet, Vanessa doing her best to keep him upright, but his weight was a lot for her to handle. It took some manoeuvring for him to climb out of the window but he managed to make it, and as soon as Vanessa had done the same, she slowly shut the window behind them, quickly dragging Arthur off into the trees and back towards the horses.

She left him there, asking him to get onto her horse if he could, and she crawled back towards Sadie. “I’ve got him.”

They crouched back together, and Vanessa was grateful that Arthur was already sitting atop her horse ready for her, and even in his state he’d left room for her to sit in front of him.

She unhitched her horse and climbed up, taking care not to brush her back against his shoulder as she grabbed onto the reins, and the three of them quickly made their getaway.

 

* * *

 

She looked down at his sleeping form. With his eyes closed and the covers pulled up over his body he looked so peaceful; had it not been for the bruises on his face one might almost think nothing bad had happened to him.

Oh, but it _had_. The ride back to Shady Belle was difficult. His arms had gripped around her as tight as he could and his head continuously fell onto her shoulder. She knew he just wanted to pass out but he was trying his hardest not to.

But they’d made it. She’d yelled for help when they did and she was grateful that it came so quickly. Charles has returned and with the assistance of Bill they’d gotten Arthur off of the horse and into the house, depositing him in the nearest bedroom.

Vanessa had rushed after them and made quick work of taking his garments off. Had she not been so concerned she may have blushed at seeing him so exposed but they needed to assess his injuries. The worst of it seemed to be his shoulder, and as she touched her hand to it he hissed in pain.

She held a candle to it, and she apologized as she used her finger and thumb to spread his skin, her eyes spotting the metallic form of a bullet. She had no medical experience, but common sense dictated that that couldn’t stay in there.

She’d turned to Hosea for help. His hands were steady and between the two of them they managed to remove it, before pouring a copious amount of alcohol onto the wound, much to Arthur’s chagrin.

Hosea laughed, “you don’t like that? Well you're gonna hate what comes next.”

She wished they had better tools. Maybe she should’ve taken him to a doctor in Saint Denis, but she’d brought him back to the gang and she couldn’t take that decision back. Hosea had placed a knife into the fire, and when it glowed hot he reached for it, and pressed it against the wound. The pain had knocked Arthur out, and he’d been sleeping ever since.

She’d sat by his side for hours. Most everyone else had gone to sleep but she’d wanted to stay near him to make sure he was alright. She touched her hand to his forehead, checking to make sure that he hadn’t caught a fever, and she was relieved when his temperature felt normal.

She heard feet shuffling near the doorway, “How is he?”

She turned towards the door and watched as Dutch walked into the room, stopping behind her, placing a hand onto her shoulder in support.

“He’ll live.”

“That’s good. Why don’t you go to sleep? You must be tired.”

She shook her head, turning her gaze back to Arthur. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

Dutch sighed and he sat down onto the bed so as to look at her. “You know I didn’t mean--”

“Don’t.”

He seemed surprised that she cut him off and he shifted in place, the mattress squeaking beneath him.

“Arthur loves you, you know. He might not say it but he does. From what I can tell he sees you as a father to him. And you just left him.” She leaned forward, “what kind of father does that?”

He said nothing in response, and he seemed extremely uncomfortable with her questioning of him. He looked toward Arthur, and his expression changed to one of regret. She might have felt sorry for him, had all of this not been his doing.

He touched his hand to Arthur’s shin, patting it before he looked back to her. “I’ll leave you be.”

And then he left. And then, for the first time in months, she finally, truly cried.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a week later than I meant to be on this one so I really hope you all enjoy it!

He let out a gasp as he awoke, and his body jerked in an attempt to sit upright.

“Hey, it's alright.” Vanessa placed her hand against his bare chest, gently pushing him back down. She could feel his pulse quickening beneath her skin. “Relax.”

He coughed into his hand, and he breathed a few heavy breaths before he swallowed them back down. “Sorry.”

She smiled down at him from her position on a chair beside the bed. “Don't apologize.” She looked to his shoulder, the skin now burned shut. It was pink and there was no denying that once healed it would leave quite the scar.

“What happened back there, Arthur?”

He turned his head on the pillow to look at her. “I don't rightly know. One minute I was holed up on an overlook, keepin’ eyes on Dutch and the next I was spendin’ quality time with Colm O’Driscoll.”

She extended a hand, and tightly gripped his. “I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that. I should have thought to come find you sooner.”

“Yeah, ‘bout that…”

She leaned forward, “what is it?”

“Why was it you and Sadie? That came to get me. Where was Dutch?”

“Dutch, he was…” She almost didn't want to tell him. Vanessa didn't want to contribute anything to something that would surely disappoint him. “He was here.”

Arthur raised his brows but said nothing, and she already felt terrible.

“I was watching after Jack when he and Micah returned without you. I tried asking them where you were but they said it was none of my business. Micah even suggested that maybe you'd stayed back for one of their woman.” She laughed at the words, not wanting him to know that even the thought stirred up a ping of jealousy within her. “I couldn't find John or anyone, so I went to Sadie. I told her that I was going out to find you, and she didn't want me going on my own.”

His face displayed a mixture of emotions, and she couldn't decipher which was the most prevalent.

“Look, Arthur. A while ago you told me that you trust in Dutch. And I hope that I don't upset you by saying this but I worry that your trust is misplaced. I know that I haven't spent nearly as much time with him as you have, so tell me if I'm wrong to feel that way. I could be. But… he was _here_. Arthur. And he --” She shook her head, deciding against continuing that train of thought. “You know what? Nevermind. I don't want to overwhelm you right now. You've been through hell, I'm sure.” She tried to smile, but she wasn't certain she was successful at doing so.

Arthur swallowed, and he looked down at their clasped hands. “I don't know what I feel. About Dutch. Lately he's been… Well, I just dunno. He's been there for me most of my life.”

Vanessa lifted his hand and placed a kiss on his knuckles. “I know. And please know that I don't mean to question you. Whatever I'm worried about can wait.”

He smiled, and patted the bed next to him. “Come here.”

She hesitated for a moment, but she felt so tired and she was desperate for some rest. She reached down and unlaced her boots before pulling them off and placing them at the foot of the bed. She slowly walked around and bit her lip as Arthur lifted the covers, allowing her to slip in next to him. He held his arm out, urging her to snuggle into him, and she happily obliged.

“You really do keep surprisin’ me.”

She licked her lips and placed her hand onto his stomach. “What? Are you surprised a little rich girl can save a man like you? Twice?”

He let out a deep laugh and she couldn't help but join him.

“Nah. I knew you was resourceful. I just… I’m surprised I'm someone you'd wanna save.”

She placed her elbow beneath her so she could raise herself up to look at him. “Of course I want to save you, Arthur. You're a good man.” She leaned down and place a kiss to his cheek, his chin, and then to his mouth. “I think you're worth a hell of a lot.”

 

* * *

 

She’d known before that he was a stubborn man but Vanessa was surprised at how much effort she had to expend in order to coax Arthur to stay in bed the next day. He’d wanted to get up, to “be of use” he’d said, but then she reminded him that he could hardly move his shoulder without wincing in pain, and that any help he’d try to provide would most likely be detrimental to his healing. But she was lucky, she had a winning hand called Jack on her side, and he’d happily taken a set of dominoes in to keep Arthur occupied, for a few hours at least.

She stepped into the foyer, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves. She felt a bit on edge and she suddenly had a vision of the O’Driscoll man beneath her, choking as he struggled for breath.

“Alright there?”

Vanessa ran her hand through her hair and looked towards Hosea. “Sure.”

He gave her a look full of question before he nodded his head towards the sofa. “Come here.” She dutifully followed, and as she sat down on the cushion she allowed herself to lean back, and closed her eyes.

She felt the cushion depress beside her, and a comforting pat was tapped onto her knee. “It’s been a trying few days.”

Vanessa’s eyes fluttered open, and she smiled as she looked back at him. “It has.” He gave a small, half-hearted smile in reply and she knew that he was able to see through her facade, so she decided to let it fall. She let out a breath and bit her bottom lip, “I feel…” she struggled to find the right word that could encompass all of the emotions that she felt.

“Confused. Concerned, maybe.”

Hosea moved, mimicking her position on the sofa, and he looked back at her, silently asking her to continue her explanation.

“When I was in that place, I felt so scared, but I didn’t hesitate before I wrapped my belt around his neck, pulling as hard as I could.” She licked her lips, and focused her gaze on a tear in the wallpaper on the wall opposite them. “I don’t feel badly for saving Arthur. You should have seen him, he was helpless, and I _had_ to… but it’s my lack of hesitation that makes me feel strangely.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just never want to be the kind of person that has no qualms over hurting someone.”

“Now, don’t you start that.” He sat up straight and held his hand out and touched her jaw, forcing her to look at him. “They would have killed him. You saved his life. In no way did you do harm to an innocent man.” He angled his head and looked down at her with sympathy, “and that you’re worried is a testament to your nature. Don’t think that you’ll become a heartless woman, we can all see that’s not who you are.”

He moved back to his previous position and wrapped his arm around her before she rested her head on his shoulder. She relished in the comfort, and she felt herself calm at his words.

“Thank you.”

“S’alright.” He squeezed her arm, and she listened to the sound of his breath as the two of them sat silently before the sound of Jack’s laughter reverberated throughout the main floor.

She heard a short laugh come from the man beside her. “Jack sure adores his Uncle Arthur.”

“Mhm. Adoration that is happily reciprocated.”

She heard Jack cheer in celebration, and she smiled knowing that Arthur must have let him win a game.

“Would you mind if an old man asked you for a favour?”

Vanessa lifted her head up and furrowed her brows as she looked at Hosea. “Of course. What is it?”

He looked contemplative as he listened to the murmuring of Arthur and Jack. “Keep him safe.”

“Who, Arthur? Despite the other day I assure you he can take care of himself,” she giggled, but she stopped short as she noticed he wasn’t joining her.  “Is something wrong?”

Hosea shook his head, but he did it so slightly that she wasn’t certain her eyes hadn’t played a trick on her. “Just a feeling.”

She thought about pressing him for more details, but she felt that even if she did he wouldn’t divulge in her questioning. Instead, she took his hand and squeezed it. “I will.”

 

* * *

 

She smiled as she heard Javier singing beside the campfire, trying to teach a song to Jack. The boy was trying his hardest, and the sight of the two of them was heartwarming. She looked around for Arthur, and when she couldn’t spot him she decided to seek him out. She made her way down the side of the house, and she saw the smoke from his cigarette before she saw the man.

“There you are.”

He held a cigarette to his lips, and breathed out to the side as she approached, careful not to get any of it into her face. “Here I am.” He smirked, and he rubbed his cigarette out on the side of the building.

“How are you feeling?”

He shrugged, but let out a grunt as the movement irritated his shoulder. Vanessa couldn’t help but laugh and he glared at her, “that’s mighty unkind of you, laughin’ at a cripple.”

She took a step closer to him and reached out, placing her palms on his chest. “Then I suppose I should apologize.”

She stood on her tiptoes and placed a delicate kiss to his lips before she pulled back. “Forgive me?”

“I dunno.” He gave her a gentle push until her back connected with the wall, “I think maybe you oughta try a little harder.”

She smiled and licked her lips as she reached forward, placing her hands onto his neck before she leaned back in, kissing the scar on his chin, his scruff rough against her mouth, and she had to resist the urge to rub her cheek against his. She licked from his chin up and over his lips and the unmistakable sound of Arthur letting out a breath urged her onward.

She tugged him closer towards her, wanting to feel his body flush against hers, before pressing her mouth back to his. He tasted like tobacco, and despite her normal disinclination to the taste she felt a desire to come back for more. A hand delved into her hair, his fingers splayed out as he cradled her head in his palm.

He changed his stance and he rolled his hips against hers, a movement which caught her by surprise. “Ah.”

He laughed as his breathing picked up its pace, “apology accepted.”

She meant to let out a laugh of her own but as she looked up at him the sound caught in her throat. Her heart skipped a beat and she swallowed hard when she noticed the intensity of his gaze.

He cleared his throat and placed one of his hands along her waist. Without the obstruction of her corset she could feel his grip as he held tightly onto her, his fingers twitching along her side.

“I’ve been meanin’ to ask ya…”

She slid her hands down his torso, and she dug her fingers into his belt, an action that made him groan. “Vanessa.”

It was her turn to let out a quiet laugh, the sight of his reaction to her movement equal parts arousing and endearing. “What do you want to ask me?”

His hand at the base of her skull kneaded into her hair, and it felt so good that she couldn’t help but let her eyes shut. He kissed along her jawline, and the trail stopped as he reached the bottom of her ear.

“Arthur?”

He breathed out before placing a kiss to her cheek, forcing himself to pull back. “We ain’t ever talked about what you… what yer experience has been.” He slid his hand from the back of her head and cupped her face, “I don’t ever want you to think I’m pressurin’ ya.”

“Oh.” Her heart fluttered, and she felt touched that he'd even thought to ask. She reached up and grabbed his wrist, keeping his hand against her face. “You are so sweet.” She turned her head and placed a kiss against his palm. “If I could give that part of me to you I would, but I made the choice to lose that a while ago.”

‘Ya did?”

She nodded. “In my life I knew I would have a lot of choices be made for me. I wanted to at least have control over _that_ part of it… I hope you’re not disappointed.”

He shook his head, “no! No, course not.” He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss onto her forehead. “I just didn’t wanna push more than I should.”

She smirked before she lifted her foot up and ran her boot against his leg, hooking it around his thigh. “I doubt you could.”

His hand slid from her jaw and stopped as his thumb ghosted over her lips. She kissed him there and she caught the digit between her teeth, gently biting the tip. He let out a low groan, her forwardness spurring him onward, and his hand dove to her thigh, holding her leg up higher before thrusting once more against her.

She could feel _him_ , and the knowledge that she was the one to excite him made a blush creep to her chest. She placed her arms around his shoulders, wanting to hold him as close to her as possible. His mouth returned to her neck, and he sucked her skin at the same location as he had for the first time at the party. She ran her fingers through his hair, holding his head in place, not wanting him to stop. “Arthur.”

He swallowed as he continued to roll his pelvis against hers, and she felt herself grow wet at the contact. His hand gripped the fabric of her dress, and the material tickled her leg as he slowly pulled it upward. He slid his hand beneath it, his fingers warm against her thigh. He inched his way closer to her centre as he disconnected his mouth from her neck, wanting to look her in the eye for her approval. She blinked one, two, three times trying to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming. And as his nails dragged along her hip she was certain that what she was currently experiencing was, in fact, reality.

Her breathing was shallow, she felt incapable of being able to take a full gulp, and her heart was _pounding_ against her chest. She struggled to do so but she managed to nod and as his fingers tucked beneath her undergarments she let out a whine.

It had been so long since anyone had touched her so intimately, and with sharing sleeping quarters since she’d arrived she hadn’t been able to relieve herself for months. She had _wanted_ this.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He rubbed her in a hard but languid movement and her chest heaved as she tried to contain herself. “This all for me?”

She wanted to respond but he gave her no time before he pushed his finger inside of her. Vanessa grabbed onto the collar of his shirt and gripped tightly as he moved his finger in and out, and she struggled to keep herself upright.

He leaned in and touched his forehead to hers. “D’ya like that?”

She nodded against him and she let out a shaky breath, “yes.” He removed his finger from her and she watched, enraptured as he opened his mouth and placed his finger inside, tasting her. “Oh.”

He pulled it out with an exaggerated _pop!_ and he smirked when he saw the look on her face. “Better than I imagined.”

He wasted no time in returning his hand to its previous place, but instead of inserting one finger he inserted two, stretching her open, a sensation that was most welcome. “Yer so tight, sweetheart.”

She groaned when he placed his thumb on top of her clit, rubbing it in a circular motion as he hooked his fingers inside of her. “God, Arthur.”

Vanessa didn’t need to ask him about his own sexual past, the movement of his hands within her and on her gave her all of the information she needed to know. His fingers were experienced, and in that moment she felt eternally grateful for it. She felt hot, and the familiar _thrum_ deep within her gut signalled that she was close. A part of her felt that maybe she should be embarrassed at how easily he made her come undone, but as she slipped off the precipice she found herself unable to care.

She let out a gasp, and Arthur stifled the sound as he connected their lips. He removed his hand from beneath her skirt and he wiped it along his pant leg before placing his hand back along her jaw. She felt his leg move against hers and the unmistakable bulge pulled her back to her senses. Vanessa tentatively slid her hands down and landed on his belt buckle.

“You don’t have ta’--”

She quickly placed her fingers over his lips to stop him. “I want to.”

She looked down and slowly undid his belt, and it fell to the ground with a _thunk_ before she touched the button of his pants. He leaned forward and placed his hands against the wall on either side of her, and she risked sliding her palm over him outside of his trousers. He released a breath at the contact and her heart skipped a beat.

She felt nervous. While she did have experience with private encounters she felt desperate to please him, and she was worried that he might find her skills to be lacking. But as she popped open the button he moaned, and the sound of it gave her confidence.

Vanessa pulled down the zipper and pushed the surrounding fabric down with it. He was exposed, and she didn’t have time to think before she found her hand wrapping itself around his cock.

“Fuck!” He dropped his head to her shoulder, and as she moved her hand up and down his shaft the sounds he was emitting were more than enough to reinvigorate her own desire for release once more.

She ran her fingers over the tip and she used the pre-cum as a lubricant before she gripped a bit tighter and began to jack him off in earnest. He made a pleading sound against her neck and any embarrassment she may have felt at how quickly she had come seemed that it was about to be shared between them.

“Arthur.”

He lifted his head and looked her in the eye, his breath hitching as she felt him tighten within her grip. His hand flew to the side of her neck and he opened his mouth wide as he came, never looking away from her.

Her hand was wet and she bit her lip when an idea took her. Instead of reaching for the handkerchief that she knew would be in his pocket, she raised her hand and licked her tongue along her palm, closing her eyes as she did so. When she opened them he looked stunned, and she couldn’t stop herself from laughing loudly. He seemed at a loss for words and she felt a bit proud at being the reason for it.

Vanessa raised her hand back to her lips before she licked the remainder of his cum from her hand before she swallowed, looking up at him.

“Better than I imagined.”


	12. Chapter 12

She lit the oil lamp and turned her head towards the tub that sat in the centre of the room, the heat of the water visible as it rose towards the ceiling. It had been so long since she’d been able to have a proper bath, and as she slipped off her garments she almost groaned in anticipation.

She bent forward and dipped her hands in the water, her fingers brushing against the mixture of herbs and flowers that she’d added to it. The smell that wafted from the tub was relaxing, and as she gingerly stepped into it she felt her muscles immediately relax.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, relishing in the moment of peace.

Vanessa had spent the last few days avoiding Dutch’s gaze, something which she found to be harder than she had anticipated. Before she and Sadie had gone to rescue Arthur, she felt Dutch never paid her much attention, but after their discussion near Arthur's bedside he seemed intent on speaking with her - to apologize or to get angry she wasn’t sure, but either way she didn’t much feel like having that conversation.

She needed more time to calm down before she even thought about speaking to him. She knew that Arthur cared for him very deeply, and she was worried that if she didn’t get her bearings together she’d say something to jeopardize that relationship, and she desperately didn’t want that for him.

She took her time washing her hair, and she used a Pears soap that she’d been saving for her skin. By the time she was finished the skin of her hands had begun to prune, but she revelled in how content she now felt. She’d been holding so much tension for such a long time, it was nice to have some of it wash away.

She slipped into the simple day dress that she’d laid out, and once she tied up her boots she made her way outside. It was warm, and she was grateful to feel her damp hair on the back of her neck. She had been hoping Arthur would have returned, and she was disappointed when she looked towards where they hitched their horses, Arthur’s nowhere to be seen.

He’d left that morning, accompanied by Dutch and Lenny, to follow up on one of the leads that they’d received from Angelo Bronte. Vanessa was surprised that Dutch would be agreeable to information received from Bronte after the insults he threw towards the gang at the party, but she knew they were desperate for money, so Dutch had put his pride aside for a moment and hoped that they weren’t being lead astray.

Javier called out to her, and she walked towards his tent. “Mr. Escuella, how are you?”

He laughed at her greeting and he shifted down on his cot to make room for her. “Miss Talbot! Fancy a drink?” He reached for a bottle and pulled the cork out before he held it towards her.

“Thank you,” she grabbed it and took a sip, coughing as the burn hit her throat. Javier smirked at the sound and she reached out and pushed against his arm. “Christ -- what is this?” She turned the bottle around to look at the label and her eyes widened as she read the alcohol content. “You did that on purpose.”

He smiled, “I just wanted to see if you could handle it.”

Had the burning sensation dissipated she would have laughed, but instead she could only continue to swallow while she shook her head ‘no’. The sunlight bounced off of something that he held within his lap and it drew her attention.

She coughed once more before speaking, “oh, that’s beautiful. Where did you get it?”

She stared at the knife as he fiddled with it between his fingers. The hilt was intricately detailed, and he held it closer to her. “Mexico. It was one of the only things I had with me when I left.”

He looked wistful, and she felt a bit sorry for him. “Would you ever go back?”

He sighed, and placed the knife down beside him. “I can’t.”

She wasn’t sure if she should press him for more details or if it would be kinder to just say nothing. Based on the look on his face this was a topic that upset him, and she didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable - but he made the choice for her as he continued.

“I killed a man. A powerful one. Over a woman.”

She raised her brows, surprised at the revelation. “Did you?”

He nodded, “I did. So I can’t go back, even if I wanted to… maybe some day.”

She reached out and placed her hand on his knee, “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, “don’t be. What’s done is done. And I like it here. And besides…” he turned his body to face her, “if I hadn’t been here I’d have missed seeing Arthur loved up like a pathetic teenager.” He laughed, and the blush that covered her cheeks was instantaneous.

She touched her fingers to her face, “you’re just trying to embarrass me.”

“If I am it’s clearly working.” He grinned as he towards the property entrance. “Ah, right on cue, here comes your boyfriend, Vanessa.” He pointed to the distance and she couldn’t help but turn her head to see for herself. She pursed her lips before looking back towards Javier. “You’re incorrigible.”

He laughed loudly as she stood up and left his tent, making her way towards the three men. When she stepped closer she noticed they looked beat up and disheveled. “Are you alright? What happened?”

Arthur quickly hitched his horse and touched his hands to her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. “Hey, sweetheart. We’re uh --” He looked back to Lenny and Dutch, the latter of the two stumbled slightly as he climbed off of The Count.

Despite being angry with him she scurried towards Dutch, placing his arm around her shoulders. He protested, telling her that he didn’t need her help but he tripped as he finished his sentence, and she refused to let him win. “Just be quiet and let me.”

As they walked towards the house Molly came towards them, “You okay, Dutch?”

He waived her off and Vanessa wasn’t certain but she thought she looked disappointed that he didn’t ask for her assistance, but she followed behind them as they made their way to one of the bedrooms, where Vanessa forced him to sit down on the bed.

She turned to Arthur, “can you get Hosea for me, please?”

He nodded, and went to fetch the older man. The room was a bit dim, so she made her way around and lit the few lamps that were inside. “There. Much better.”

She picked one up and walked back towards Dutch, and as the light hit his face he winced.

“Oh, I - I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--”

“It’s okay.” He reached out and touched her hand, and as his eyes connected with hers she saw bruising had spread along his eyes and forehead. She leaned down and risked touching his face, wanting to get a better look. “What happened?”

He made an annoyed groan and she instantly pulled back, thinking he was angry with her. But she was mistaken. “Signor Bronte happened.”

Lenny stepped into the room, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “The job went sour. It was a set up. Got only fifteen each and had to steal a trolley to get away.”

Vanessa had a vision of what kind of a scene that must have caused, and had Dutch not looked so injured she would have laughed at the idea. “And?”

Dutch answered, “the trolley crashed. Obviously. Then _this_ ,” he waved his hand across his face, signalling that the derailment was what caused his injuries.

“Well fellers, your day was more exciting than you anticipated.” Hosea stepped into the room with Arthur standing behind him. The elder walked towards Vanessa and looked down at Dutch. “Mighty banged up, aren’t ya? Gotta be more careful, old man.”

Vanessa bit her lip, not wanting to laugh at Hosea’s ribbing. She felt him place a hand on her arm and he shooed her out of the room, insisting that between him and Molly they’d make sure Dutch was looked after, an instruction that she didn’t mind following.

Arthur slid his hand into hers, and he pulled her along towards his room. She watched as he removed his hat, placing it onto the dresser before he sat down onto an empty chair, reaching to remove his shoes.

“And you? How did you fair?”

He gave her a small smile and looked up at her, “better than Dutch, at least.”

She leaned against the wall and ran her tongue over her lip, “are you sure?”

He got his second shoe off and placed it on the floor beside him. He leaned back into the seat and slid his suspenders off of his shoulders. “Sure. I think so, anyways.”

She turned and slowly shut the door behind her as an idea took her. Her heels clicked as she walked across the floor boards and towards him, kneeling in front of his form. She tentatively reached out and placed her palms on his knees. “Don't you think it might be prudent to be sure?” She locked her eyes with him and he reached out, gently running his fingers along her cheek. He opened his mouth to say something and she was certain he was about to tell her that she didn't have to do this for him, but she was pleased when he changed his mind.

“You're the nurse.” He held his arms out as he opened his legs, letting her crawl closer towards him, “examine me.”

Her heart skipped a beat as she raised herself up on her knees and she reached for the buttons of his shirt. She stared at her hands as she slowly unbuttoned them, and she felt his eyes bore into her. She wanted to look up at him, but she worried that if she did she’d realize just how nervous she felt. She’d only ever done this once, and while she remembered that she seemed to do a decent job, it had been so long since she’d tried, and a thought at the back of her mind made her wonder if she would live up to what Arthur might be used to.

When she finished undoing his shirt she touched her hands to his stomach, pushing the fabric to his sides. Hair dusted over his chest and it formed a trail down his torso that went beyond his pant line. She raked her nails over him, and he sucked in a breath at the contact.

She peaked downward, and she didn’t miss the unmistakable hardening of his member.

He cleared his throat, “how do I look?”

His question released some of the tension she felt within her and she gave a giggle, “very good, Mr. Morgan.”

She wasted no time in popping open the button of his pants, and she slowly pulled down the zipper, his thigh giving an involuntary twitch as her hand rubbed against him. He lifted his hips and she _pulled_ the offending fabric down, just enough to reveal him.

“Oh, Arthur.”

He swallowed a groan as she said his name and he seemed to struggle with keeping his eyes open as she delicately touched her fingertips to his cock. The look on his face gave her the confidence she needed to lean forward, and swipe her tongue over the tip.

“Fuck,” he let out a quiet expletive, and he reached forward to touch his hand to her cheek. She slid her hand down his shaft and she squeezed lightly, while she reached her other hand into his underwear to cup his balls.

His hips bucked, urging her to put her mouth back on him and she obliged, being careful not to catch her teeth along the skin.

Her mouth felt small in comparison to the girth of his cock, but she tried her best to relax, to coax her mouth open wider. She wanted to be good for him, so she willed herself to take him further into her throat.

He made a bit of a strangled noise when she gave a little suck, her cheeks hollowing out around him. She pulled her mouth off with a pop, and she felt a drop of saliva slip out of her mouth and onto his tip. “Jesus, sweetheart, you look--”

He didn’t finish his sentence as she ran her tongue along the underside and over the top, and he dropped his head back and let out a low groan. She smiled to herself, pleased that she could elicit such a reaction out of him, and she took him into her mouth once more, eager to give him the release she felt he deserved.

His legs fell open wider as she bobbed up and down, and she felt his large hands grab a hold of her hair before he used it to guide her rhythm. “I’m almost there, Nessa.”

She tried to look up at him when she heard the nickname he’d called her, but he didn’t seem to notice that he’d done it. Instead, he seemed more focused on how her eyes were watering, and the noises that her throat made as it was filled with his cock.

He thrust into her and, ever the gentlemen, she thought, he waited until she gave him a nod of approval before he continued. His movements became more erratic the closer he got, and he warned her before he came to his peak.

“I’m gonna--”

She felt him try to pull her off of him, but she was having none of it, and she grabbed the base of his dick with her hands and held steady, feeling the pulsing beneath her fingers before she tasted him, his cum shooting into her mouth and onto her tongue.

The sight of his release was almost breathtaking to her. The sunlight flew into the windows, and his face was slightly shadowed from the lack of light within the room, the effect creating a sort of halo around his frame. When he was finished she released him before she made a show of swallowing everything that he’d had to give her.

He placed his forearm over his eyes as he breathed deeply, waiting for himself to come down before he looked back at her. “You didn’t have to do that.”

The corners of her lips turned upwards, “I wanted to.”

She stood up, a slight ache in her knees from the hard wood beneath her. After watching him she felt hot, and she wasn’t quite finished with him yet, so she straddled his left thigh and sat down on him.

He let out a short laugh, “well, am I all healed?”

She leaned forward and kissed his temple before she leaned back, “mhm. But my services don’t come for free, Mr. Morgan. I require my payment.”

She shifted so as to move the fabric of her skirt out of the way before she rocked against him. She could tell her clit was swollen from the show that he’d given her and even a small amount of friction was enough to make her whine.

His hands touched her waist before settling on her hips, encouraging her to continue her movements. She felt a bit like she was having an out of body experience, like her mind had left her and only her sexual instincts were left to control her. But she felt so good that she hardly cared.

She felt her nipples harden beneath her dress and she really wanted to feel him touch her, so she slowed her rocking, and she reached up to the capped sleeves, pushing them down her arms and revealing herself to him.

Vanessa’s bust wasn’t very well endowed, a fact which made her a bit self-conscious, but by the face Arthur pulled when he saw her he was more than pleased. “Yer just perfect, ain’t you?”

She huffed out a laugh but stopped short when his thumb ghosted along her nipple. He gave her breast a squeeze before he pinched her between his thumb and forefinger, pulling on her nipple before releasing it. The feeling was on the line between pleasure and pain and she _really_ wanted to feel more of it.

“Arthur.”

She moved her hips against his thigh and she felt a pool of wetness beneath her, and Arthur seemed to realize at the same moment that she did that she had soaked through the fabric of his pants.

“Look at you.” He leaned forward and licked her breast before he sat back in the chair, removing his hands from her. “Go on.”

He looked at her expectantly, and she suddenly felt a streak of shyness run through her, but he shook his head at her. “It’s alright, darlin’. I just wanna watch ya.”

She brushed her anxieties aside and continued her previous movement, the feeling of his pants and his hard thigh underneath her felt so fucking good, that she couldn’t stop herself from letting out a moan. He seemed pleased at the sight, and he urged her onward.

“Just like that. Yer doin’ so good.”

She placed her hands on his chest for leverage, and she picked up the pace of her thrusts against him. She was close, and she ran her nails along his chest in anticipation of her release.

“Look at me, Vanessa.”

She couldn’t deny him, and after three more rocks she dug her fingernails into him enough to leave a mark. Vanessa fell into him and he wrapped his arms around her as she felt the throbbing within her start to cease.

The two of them stayed in the embrace for minutes, maybe, before Vanessa pulled back. As she looked down at him she ran her eyes over him once more, legitimately making sure she saw no significant bruises, before she stood up extracting herself from him.

“Consider your invoice paid in full, Mr. Morgan.”


	13. Chapter 13

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, just staring at the envelope she held in her hands. Vanessa and Arthur had made the trip into St. Denis and while he went off on his own she decided to stop in at the Post Office. It had been weeks since she’d sent her letter home and she wondered if her parents had written back to her. She felt a nervous shiver run down her back as she approached the counter, and she found herself holding her breath as the man turned to look through the various correspondence that was waiting to be picked up by their recipients.

When he handed an envelope to her she quickly reached for it before she scurried off towards a nearby bench, taking a seat away from everyone else. She bit her bottom lip as she ripped open the envelope and she breathed deeply as she unfolded the pages within.

“Oh.”

She had thought either her mother or father would be the one to write her back so she was surprised when the letter started with, “Dearest Vanny,” which meant it had been her brother who’d written her - he was the only person who called her that.

**_You should have seen our parents’ faces when old Davenheim told them a letter had arrived from you. I’ve never seen either of them jump out of their seats so fast. And when they read it? Well, let’s just say that you’re lucky you’re thousands of miles away right now._ **

**_When Mr. Levinson first wrote telling us that you’d never arrived at his estate everyone was beside themselves, we were worried sick about you. We thought you might have died, Vanny. But then your letter came and you told us that everything was fine and to not come looking for you - that was a hard pill for them to swallow._ **

**_Everyone is furious, and rightly so. You know what it means to break an engagement like you did. I don’t know what Father’s had to do to keep it out of the papers, but so far he has. Hopefully, for all of us, it stays that way._ **

**_However, because I am such an amazing big brother, you will be pleased to hear that I have been trying my best to un-ruffle their feathers. I knew before you left that you were unhappy, and I’ve explained that to them. But you know how it is. They’re fuddy duddies who think it’s still 1870 so it’s been rough-going, but I’ll keep cracking at it._ **

**_I don’t know when you’ll be brave enough to come home, but until you do I want to be sure that you’re alright, so please keep writing to me. I miss you, little sister._ **

**_With love,_ **

**_Wesley Talbot_ **

**_Postscript, I’ve enclosed some money for you. Don’t be too proud to use it._ **

The letter left her feeling both relieved and terrified all at once. She was extremely nervous for when the time came that she would have to return home, but she was very grateful that she had such a wonderful older brother who was on her side. She wasn’t sure what she would do without him.

And the money that he’d enclosed was quite substantial compared to what she’d had to live on for the past while, and she knew that if Dutch were to know she had it he’d immediately make her give it up. She didn’t want to do that, as she was certain her brother had dug into his own pocket to give it to her, and she didn’t want to have it used for something that it wasn’t intended for. So she quickly tucked the money into her bag, along with the letter, and made plans to hide it somewhere within her things when she returned back to camp.

Vanessa took a deep breath to compose herself before she stepped towards the exit, and made her way onto the street, spotting Arthur approaching her.

She smiled as she looked at the parcel he was carrying, “you had good luck?”

He let out a huff and looked towards the ground, and she was surprised to see a bit of a blush tint his cheeks, “I think so.” She thought of asking him what he had purchased, but she decided not to pry.

“My brother wrote to me.”

“Did he?”

“Mhm.” She pushed a stray bit of hair back behind her ear before she continued. “He said that before I wrote to them they had thought I was dead.”

He raised his brows, “can’t blame ‘em for thinkin’ that.”

“No. But he also said that now that I have they’re quite furious with me, and that I’m lucky I’m nowhere near them right now.”

Arthur sighed and reached his left hand out to touch her cheek. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Vanessa shook her head, “it’s alright. I expected that they would be. It just means I need to give them time to cool off. Which should be easy since I’m so far away.” She let out a laugh and she smiled as Arthur joined her.

“Should be.”

On their way back towards Arthur’s horse they entered a small hat store, since Vanessa felt she needed another, more appropriate hat to wear every day. She quickly found what she was looking for and as she made her purchase she overheard another cashier encouraging Arthur to try something on.

When her eyes fell upon the particular hat in question she pursed her lips, trying not to smile at the interaction.

“Uhh, I don’t think it’s fer me.” Arthur tried to protest, but the man wasn’t having it.

“Nonsense! Try it on!” The man reached for it, and made his way around the counter towards Arthur, and without any pretense he placed it onto his head.

Vanessa’s hand flew to her mouth to stop an audible laugh from escaping at the sight. She grabbed the hat she’d just purchased and walked closer towards him, so her reflection joined his in the mirror.

She wished she had a camera because the image she saw was one to be remembered. One very manly, very tough outlaw wearing a large, brightly coloured hat with a peacock feather accent, fit for a girl arriving at her coming out ball.

“Oh, Mr. Morgan. Don’t you look pretty.”

Her words seemed to snap Arthur out of his polite obligation of trying it on and he immediately tore it off of his head and shoved it back towards the attendant. “It’s not exactly me.”

Vanessa couldn’t stop herself and she laughed loudly as she watched Arthur quickly exit the store, and she followed closely behind him.

“What? Don’t you want it? But you looked so good in it, Arthur! You’d have made all the boys back at camp jealous.”

He smirked and rolled his eyes at her, “shut up, Nessa.” He held his package tightly under his arm and he tapped it with his spare hand, “not sure you deserve this now.”

Her eyes lit up, “oh? That’s for me?”

He gave her a look of question, “dunno anymore. Might have ‘ta give it to someone else. Someone who ain’t sassin’ me.”

She giggled, “excuse me, I’m not sassing you. I can’t help it if you looked pretty wearing that hat or that the colour really made your eyes pop.”

He let out a mock-annoyed groaned and he turned his back on her before he began to walk away, “no, no, I’m givin’ it to someone else.”

She jogged after him with a wide smile on her face as she cut him off, clutching at his arm. “Okay, I’m sorry. Maybe you looked _handsome_ , not pretty.”

He grumbled and she moved onto her tiptoes in order to place a kiss on his cheek, and he caught her lips with his before she returned her heels to the ground.

“Alright.” He held the package out towards her and he looked down at her expectantly. “Go on.”

She was quite curious to see what he’d gotten for her, so she made short work of undoing the string that held it together, before she lifted the lid of the box off of it.

“Christ, Arthur.”

She almost couldn’t believe what she was looking at. It was a revolver, plated in gold with decorative flourishes on the cylinder, barrel and grip. She reached into the box and pulled it out. The metal felt heavy in her hands, and what had brought her the most surprise was that it felt _expensive_.

Vanessa looked up at him, “this is too much Arthur, I can’t believe you spent--”

“I wanted to.”

He grabbed a belt and holster that had sat beneath the weapon out of the box before he placed the package down onto the ground. He reached his hands around her, placing the belt over her hips before he tightly secured it. He took the gun from her hands and placed it into the holster at her side, keeping his eyes down at it as he spoke.

“I know that yer stayin’ with me is dangerous. And despite me tryin’ not to I worry about ya.” He looked at her and reached out, brushing her hair from her forehead. “I’ll feel better knowin’ ya have that.”

She opened her mouth to speak but she couldn’t find the right words to properly thank him with. “Arthur…” She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly to her, hoping that her embrace would properly express just how grateful she was to him.

  


* * *

  


Vanessa sat quietly on the front step, thinking about the words that her brother had written her. She had known when she left the train that day that her parents would have a hard time forgiving her, but knowing that was the outcome of her choice didn’t make it any less difficult to hear.

As much as she prided herself on being an independent thinker she had always listened to whatever her parents had asked of her, and in thinking about it she felt a thread of guilt begin to pull itself from her gut. But what’s done is done, and she couldn’t take it back now. So as she looked out at the camp before her she decided to make the best of it. She was here now, and she could earn her parents’ forgiveness later.

She squinted as she looked down the path leading into the camp, and she thought she spotted a horse approaching in the distance. But the more she looked the more she thought something about it seemed wrong.

Vanessa stood and began walking towards it, and as it closed the distance between them her eyes widened at what she saw. It made her heart slam against her ribcage in rapid succession, and she felt her feet failing her as she stood in place, the horse getting closer and closer to her.

Her mind could hardly comprehend what she was seeing. Kieran’s body sat atop of his horse, but he had been decapitated, and his head was being cradled in his hands. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, so Vanessa did the one thing she felt was appropriate. She screamed. Loudly.

A shot flew by her and she dropped to the ground as fear took over her, and brought her right back to that day in Rhodes. Visions of Sean flashed through her mind as she quickly crawled along the ground until she reached Abigail and they both took cover behind the fence. Vanessa heard Arthur bellow down at her from the second floor to stay where she was and as she turned to look up at him she saw him take aim with his rifle and fire.

Abigail grabbed her arm, “do you see Jack?!”

Vanessa spun around and saw him running towards the door where his father was, and John swiftly picked him up into his arms and dropped him into the house before shutting the door behind his son, keeping him in relative safety.

“He’s inside!”

Abigail breathed a sigh of relief as Vanessa tried to get a better look at what they were dealing with, but it was chaos, and in the confusion it was hard to decipher just how many O’Driscolls had surrounded them. Behind her she heard Abigail gasp, and as she turned around she spotted a man trying to grab at her leg.

“Get the fuck away from her!”

Vanessa’s outburst had surprised him, and the man laughed as he looked down at her crouched on the ground. He was armed, but his hands were busy trying to grab Abigail, and Vanessa took her chance as she quickly pulled her gun out from it’s holster and she aimed it at him.

She turned off the safety and placed her finger on the trigger. “I mean it.”

He looked at her with anger, but he continued to smile as he stepped back from Abigail, holding his hands out at his sides. Vanessa was terrified that at any moment he would reach for his gun but without warning a hole blew open within his chest. She looked back up towards the balcony, and saw Arthur nod towards her.

She grabbed Abigail, and they took the short break in gunfire to seize the moment to run into the house, slamming the door behind them.

“Arthur!”

Vanessa ran towards the staircase and she met Arthur as he reached the bottom.

“Thank god!” He grabbed her and pulled her tight towards him, and she revelled in the warmth before pulling back. “What do we do?”

“You stay inside. I ain't lettin’ you go out there again.”

So she waited. It felt like it took ages, and as she sat in the hall while Arthur and a few others systematically made their way through what remained of the O'Driscolls, she couldn't stop thinking about what had happened to Kieran.

She felt guilty. She hadn't taken much time to get to know him, and she regretted that now. But maybe it was for the best. Had she befriended him she imagined the sight of him on that horse would be even harder for her to deal with now.

The back door swung open, and Sadie walked in with Arthur right behind her. He looked exhausted as he took his hat off and placed it onto a nearby table. “That's all of 'em.”

 

* * *

 

 

They'd taken care in pulling Kieran's body off of the horse, and they laid him gently onto the ground. Vanessa watched in silence as Dutch told Swanson to find a place to bury him, before Charles offered his help in completing the task.

Dutch walked back and forth, clearly weighing the possibilities of what to do next. “We need to get outta here.”

Arthur nodded, “we need to find another place to camp.”

Dutch shook his head and placed his hands on his hips, “you ain't thinking big enough, Arthur.”

“I'm not sure I get ya.”

The older man reached forward and grabbed his shoulder, “you will, son.”

Vanessa didn't understand exactly what he meant by that, but whatever it was it didn't feel right to her. But she said nothing, and helped the others clear away the bodies.

As night fell she couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension. She'd tried her best to fall asleep, but her brain wouldn't let her pause her thoughts. So she pulled back the covers, and walked barefoot down the hall towards Arthur's room. She pushed open the door without knocking, and gingerly closed it behind her. “Arthur?”

He stirred in his sleep before he rolled over to face her. “Vanessa?”

“Hey… I can't sleep. Do you mind if I join you?”

“'Course not. Hop in.” He lifted the blanket, sliding to make room for her, and when she laid down he wrapped his arm around her. “Y'alright?”

She pressed her head into the crook of his neck and she placed her hands onto his naked chest.

In all honesty she wasn't yet sure, but feeling his body next to hers calmed her, and she had faith that she would be okay so long as she stuck by him.

“I'm okay. Better now.”


	14. Chapter 14

She ran her fingers along the porcelain of the teacup in her hand as she kept her eyes on the man sat across from her. He wore the same velvet, maroon jacket that he had the last time she had visited his estate, but this time his outfit was punctuated with a lit cigar held between his lips. From what she could tell he had fine taste, and the box of cigars he had sat on the table was worth more than he probably paid his servants over the course of six months.

Smoke emitted from his mouth as he stared back at her. “I have to say, Signora Talbot, that after the festivities at the Mayor’s house I hadn’t expected you to pay me a visit.”

Neither had she. But Dutch had cornered her the day previous and demanded that she earn her keep and help him run a job. His words had irritated her, but she’d held her tongue and listened to his plans.

He wanted to punish Angelo Bronte for giving them his so-called “lead” at the trolley station. When it went south Vanessa had assumed he’d been angry over it, but that was weeks ago, so she mistakenly thought he had decided not to retaliate. But she was wrong, and he had tasked her with distracting Mr. Bronte while Dutch and a handful of others made their way through his estate. She’d pressed him for more answers, wanting to know what he planned on doing to Angelo once he reached him, but he shut her down.

She didn’t feel right about it, but she knew Dutch had her back pressed into a corner, and she had to go along with it.

Vanessa smiled and took a sip of her tea, “well of course, Signor Bronte. I’ve been itching to see you since that night.”

His eyes lit up and he gripped his cigar between his thumb and forefinger, “have you?”

“Mhm.” She leaned forward and placed her cup carefully onto the table before she stood, and made her way towards the chaise that he sat upon. “May I?” He quickly shifted and eagerly moved down to make room for her.

“Tell me, Signor Bronte, is there a Signora Bronte waiting somewhere for you?”

The corners of his mouth quirked upwards and a slight blush appeared on his cheeks. His eyes darted across the room and he waved towards his footman, urging him to leave them and when the doors closed behind him Angelo leaned back, resting his arm along the top of the lounge.

“There is not.”

Vanessa bit her bottom lip and watched as Angelo’s gaze shot to her mouth, so she licked her lips to bait him. “That’s surprising.” She reached out and delicately touched her hand to his forearm, “although it does provide some opportunity for us, don’t you think?”

He smiled as he placed his cigar back between his lips, taking a deep breath before turning his head to blow the smoke away from her. “What do you propose?”

She opened her mouth to answer but before she could a loud bang was heard from outside of the room. Angelo jumped to his feet just as John and Arthur kicked the door open, brandishing their guns on him.

A muffled shriek caught in Bronte’s throat as he grabbed hard at Vanessa’s arm, pulling her into him in an attempt to use her as a shield. “Don’t shoot!”

John laughed and furrowed his brows at Angelo’s exclamation and Arthur immediately dropped his gun to his side, signalling that no, he would, in fact, not shoot Vanessa.

“Okay, Mr. Bronte, let go of Miss Talbot.”

He hesitated to comply, and Vanessa took her opportunity to twist in his grip, and she kicked his shin with her heel in order to make him let go of her. He yelled out a curse word in Italian as he bent forward, clutching at his leg, before John crossed the room in quick succession and landed a punch clean along the side of his face, knocking him to the ground.

“Come on, Arthur. Let’s get him to Dutch.”

Arthur let out a huff as he holstered his gun at his side, “you makin’ me carry him?”

“Well I ain’t gonna ask Vanessa to and I’m not touchin’ that piece of shit.”

Vanessa smirked as she watched Arthur reluctantly cross the room to pick up the still form of Angelo Bronte. He groaned at the weight of the man on his shoulder but as he moved passed her she couldn’t help but allow herself to revel a bit in the display of strength.

She stayed behind them as they made their way through the back of the estate, with Dutch and the others clearing the path back to the small boat they’d made their way in on. Vanessa felt extremely out of place as she grabbed onto John’s hand, careful as she stepped into the boat. Everyone else was heavily armed, and she didn’t like not having any kind of weapon of her own.

Lenny held the ore and pushed the boat out into the water and on to relative safety before Dutch shook Bronte awake.

“Hey, big man. We gonna ransom you or what?”

Bronte scoffed and turned his face away from him, “you’re pathetic.”

“Am I? All your men are dead, your money is gone. From where I sit, my friend, you’re the one deservin’ of pity.”

Bronte looked toward the other men in the boat behind Dutch, and when his eyes fell upon Vanessa his face contorted, “you bitch.”

Despite only saying two words to her it was said with such malice that she automatically shifted back along her seat. She had never had someone direct that kind of tone towards her, and she instantaneously knew she didn’t care for how it made her feel.

Dutch reached forward and grabbed his face, directing Bronte’s attention back on him. “Don’t mind the lady, this is between you and me.”

Bronte jerked his head to the side, trying to free his face from Dutch’s grasp. His chest heaved and he swallowed as he steeled his gaze, “you are nothing. You do nothing. You mean nothing and when the law catches up to you, you will die like nothing and no one will care.”

His back was to her, but Vanessa could tell that Dutch was _angry_.

“Oh you’re right.” He moved from his seat within the boat and crawled over Bronte, “you are _so right_.” He held his hands out and he grabbed Angelo by the neck, pulling his body up and bending his torso over the side of the boat, forcing his face into the water.

Vanessa was horrified at what she was witnessing, but she couldn’t take her eyes away from the sight of it.

Dutch screamed down at Bronte as the man desperately tried to lift his head above the water. “Are your friends, the Pinkertons, gonna come save you now? They gonna come rescue you, Signor??”

She felt a rough hand touch hers, and without needing to look Vanessa knew that it was Arthur, and she tightly grabbed hold of his palm.

Dutch continued to taunt Angelo as he lifted his head above the surface just enough to allow him a shallow breath of air before he shoved his face back underneath the water, the boat shaking at the movements. Vanessa found that as Bronte’s twitches slowed she was finally able to force herself to look away, and she turned her body into Arthur’s, not wanting to see his last moments alive.

The boat stilled, and a lump formed in Vanessa’s throat as she heard Dutch push Angelo into the water with a splash, and Vanessa looked back towards his now dead body floating away from them, an alligator not far off in the distance. She stared with rapt attention as it moved towards its prey, sharp rows of teeth pierced his body before it slowly dragged him away from any spectators.

“Jesus,” John muttered from beside her, “what part of the plan involved feeding a man to an alligator?”

Dutch took a deep breath inward, anger still deep within his voice, “it was us or him. I’d rather it be him.”

 

* * *

 

The whiskey burned as it slid down her throat, and Vanessa suppressed a cough as she placed her glass down onto the table.

“Need another?”

She turned her gaze upwards and met Arthur’s. “I might.” He took that as a yes, and he reached for her cup, grabbing it before he stood and made his way back over towards the bar.

After what she witnessed Vanessa felt uncomfortable going back to camp, and when she voiced her concerned to Arthur he took it upon himself to bring her to a hotel in Saint Denis, giving her some time to catch her breath.

She watched as their glasses were refilled and when Arthur turned back towards her he made sure to catch her eyes, and he motioned towards the stairs. Her feet felt heavy beneath her but she managed to make her way up to the second floor and into the room that they had booked before she closed the door behind them.

Arthur reached forward and she gripped her drink, “thank you.”

He smiled, but it was a small one, and she didn’t miss the concern that was written over his face. “Tonight was…”

She swallowed another sip and walked towards a chair that sat in the corner of the room, crossing her ankles as she got comfortable. “Terrible?”

He nodded and removed his hat, placing it down on the bed before he sat onto the mattress. He swallowed the alcohol in one gulp, and he cleared his throat as he ran his hand through his hair. “Ain’t a bad word for it.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, but her mind assaulted her with a vision of Angelo’s head being held beneath the water, and she quickly opened them again. “Arthur.” She stood, leaving her cup on the floor before she took a seat next to him. “Do you ever… feel guilty? About all of this?”

He looked down at the ground and waited for a few beats before responding, “sometimes.”

Vanessa leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. “How do you deal with it?” She felt him rest his own head against hers, and she placed her hand on his thigh, wanting to feel closer to him.

“All I’ve ever known is this kinda life. Always felt I didn’t have much of a choice in it. So I do what’s asked, then I try to forget.”

She lifted her head up to look at him, and she suddenly realized how hard his life must have been, and he bore the scars to prove it. Vanessa wondered what kind of life he would have lived had he been born somewhere else instead - would it have been any different? Being here made her realize just how privileged she had been, and she felt rotten for complaining about what she’d had to go through. It was nothing in comparison to him.

She reached out and ran her fingers along the side of his jaw. “I don’t know what’s going on with Dutch, and I’m well aware that I don’t quite understand how you feel about everything, but I just want to be sure that you know that if there ever comes a time when you want to leave, that I’ll leave with you. Okay? I have people who could help us, and places we could go. If you ever don’t want to be a part of this anymore I can help you. And if you want to stay, Arthur, I’ll stay with you.” She leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek, “you have options. If you want them. If you want me.”

His large hand covered hers and he held it tight into his chest. “Course I want you, sweetheart. I just can’t believe ya want me back.” He raised his free hand and placed his thumb along her lips. His skin was rough against hers, but she loved the feeling of it.

“Look at ya. Yer beautiful and too good for me, I know. I don’t wanna keep you in danger.”

She reached up and grabbed his wrist, keeping his hand in place against her face. “You’re a much better catch than you think you are, Arthur. And I want to stay with you. That’s my choice.”

He slid his hand from her face and placed his large palm across her chest, and she knew he could feel her heart beating beneath her ribcage. He continued to slide his hand down her body, and Vanessa was irritated that the hardness of her corset made it so that she couldn’t feel his touch until he made his way to her thigh. He slipped off of the mattress, and manoeuvred himself onto his knees in front of her. His hands clutched at her, and he kept his eyes on hers as he gently pushed her legs apart.

She swallowed as he reached for the hem of her dress, and he slowly pushed the fabric up and away, revealing her most intimate part to him. Vanessa opened her mouth to take a deeper breath as he looked away from her and towards her centre, and when he got a good look at her he let out a groan.

“I ain’t done anything to deserve something as good as that.”

She couldn’t stop a small laugh from bubbling out of her throat, she herself feeling unworthy of such praise from him, but her train of thought derailed as he reached out to touch her.

She whined as he pushed her legs further apart and he pressed a finger into her, hooking it towards himself. “You like that, darlin’?”

Vanessa struggled to stay upright, and when he leaned forward and swiped his tongue along her she threw her head back at the sensation. “Oh!”

She fell back onto her elbows, and the straps of her dress slipped off of her shoulders. She’d never felt anything like this. She had thought that she’d gotten a fair amount of experience before she’d left New York but evidently she was very mistaken about that.

She tried to look down towards him, and she caught his eye just as he slid another finger inside of her, and he sucked hard onto her clit. “Oh, fuck!”

Arthur hummed out a laugh, and had it not felt so good she might have tried to take a swipe at his arm.

He pumped his thick fingers in and out of her as he rotated between licking and sucking on her bundle of nerves. Vanessa couldn’t stop the sounds that floated out of her mouth, and in short order she found herself crest over the precipice, and she bit the inside of her cheek to refrain from calling out.

He pulled his fingers out of her, and as he gripped at her thigh she could feel her own wetness stain her legs. He reached for her waist and pulled her up, pressing a kiss to the hard fabric of her corset. “Take this off, please, sweetheart.”

She nodded, and she grabbed her hair in her hands to move it out of the way before she turned. “I need you to help me. Just there.”

She felt him fumble in his movements, but after an initial struggle she felt the fabric of her dress come loose, and she shimmied it down her torso, before she lifted her hips and Arthur pulled it off of her legs, throwing it unceremoniously onto the floor.

Vanessa reached behind her and made fast work of the ties, and as the restriction began to give away she felt she could finally take the deep breath that she needed. Arthur’s hands joined hers, and together they slid the bodice off, and it landed with a thunk along the hardwood, leaving her completely exposed.

His eyes roamed over every inch of her, and he lifted his arms up and pushed her hair away from her chest, moving it behind her. He ran his fingertips from her neck to her collarbone, down over her breasts and as he reached her nipples he gave each of them a little squeeze before he continued his journey. The feeling of his hands along her stomach tickled her, but Vanessa felt so aroused that she was able to brush that feeling aside, and she looked down towards Arthur’s pelvis, an unmistakable bulge hard within his pants.

“Arthur.”

Her voice seemed to pull him out of his reverie, and he licked his lips before he leaned forward, finally connecting their mouths together. She tasted herself on him, and knowing that his tongue had just been on her caused her to grow wetter.

She pulled back from him, and she decided that he was far too overdressed for the occasion, so she reached out and pushed his suspenders off of his shoulders before grabbing for his gun belt. The weight of his weapons caused it to hit the floor with a bit of a bang but she could hardly hear it over the pounding of her heart within her chest.

He stayed silent as she worked to undo the buttons of his shirt, and she felt her hands shaking slightly in anticipation. She wanted him so badly, and knowing that she was about to give herself to him excited her, she felt she could hardly contain herself.

He grabbed his open shirt and he quickly slipped it off before he reached for her, pulling her tight against his chest as he attacked her neck with his mouth. He sucked hard at her skin just below her ear and it felt fucking _good_ , so she rolled her pelvis against his in response, feeling his straining erection pressing against her.

“Arthur please.”

He let out a low growl as he pulled himself away from her, and he made short work of opening his pants and he pushed them and his undergarments down his thighs. His cock sprung out and the sight of it shot a pulse of arousal through her core.

She reached out for him, and her hand felt small in comparison. “God, you’re so fucking big.” She gave him one, two, three pumps before he grabbed a hold of her hips, and he _pushed_ her body up the mattress to make room for him. He crawled over top of her, trying to kick his pants off of his feet, and when he'd managed the task she instinctively spread her legs apart, wanting to feel him as close to her as possible.

He ran his tip along her folds, and her heart constricted at the feeling. She felt absolutely desperate for him, and she didn’t care how obvious she made it. She reached downward and placed her hands on the taught muscles of his ass, urging him into her.

“Please, Arthur. I need you inside of me, please.”

She thought she saw a flash of surprise across his face at her words, but he quickly brushed it off, and he obeyed.

He slowly entered her, and the stretch was _just_ on the right side of pain so that she preened at the sensation. He was thick, and it had been a while since she’d been with anyone, but she happily took the onslaught that his dick gave her as he breached her to the hilt.

She moaned as his pelvis became flush against hers, and he paused for a moment to allow her time to adjust. Vanessa hooked her ankles behind his thighs as she dug her fingernails into him, “I’m okay, keep going, please.”

He pulled out almost all the way before he pumped back into her, his breaths deepening with every thrust, and his pace quickening along with it.

The bed creaked beneath them, and she almost felt overwhelmed by feeling so full.

“You feel so fucking good, Arthur, I--”

He huffed out a breath, “Christ, Vanessa.” He pulled away from her and sat up on his knees before he reached for her waist, sitting her atop his lap. The position made her feel even fuller, and she whined as she clutched at his neck.

He gripped tightly onto her hips, and he guided her into a rocking motion against him. Her breasts brushed along his chest, and he shut his eyes as she tried to roll her hips deeper into him, the image of his own pleasure making her even more eager to make him cum.

She picked up her pace as she leaned into him, placing a chaste kiss along his ear. She heard his breath hitch, and she realized that he must have enjoyed that, so she did it again, and again, and again, before she swiped her tongue along his earlobe.

His rhythm stumbled, and she relished in knowing that she was the cause of it. Vanessa whispered his name in his ear, and his hands dug so tightly to her hips that she was certain they would be bruised in the morning.

“You’re so good Arthur, you feel so good.”

He _pounded_ into her in an erratic beat, and she grabbed the sides of his face, swallowing his cry with a kiss as he came. He held her tightly as she felt his body twitch, and when his breathing evened out she placed a kiss on the scar along his chin.

He opened his eyes, the bright blue orbs seemingly stared right through her. His brow now displayed a thin sheen of sweat, and as she looked at his face she felt struck by how handsome he was, and how lucky she felt to be there with him.

In the back of her mind Vanessa reluctantly acknowledged the cards that were stacked against them, but the way she felt when she was with him, there wasn't a chance in hell she'd let that go without a fight.

And she hoped he felt the same.

  
  
  



	15. Chapter 15

A small breeze entered the room from the open window along the adjacent wall, and the air hit the thin sheen of sweat shared between them, causing her to shiver despite the intense heat that she felt within her.

He shifted, placing more weight onto his arms which trapped her face-down into the mattress, the adjustment of his body causing his chest to skim along her back, and the angle of his pelvis shifted ever so slightly. Arthur fucked her slowly, and the only sounds heard within the room were their heavy breathing and the slapping of skin on skin.

She turned her head to the side when she felt his hand sliding through her hair, pushing it out of the way. He leaned forward and placed a kiss below her ear, and Vanessa felt his warm breath along her face, “so beautiful, sweetheart. So tight fer me.”

She let out a gasp at his words, and she pushed her hips back to meet his. He let out a short, surprised laugh from above her, and her movement encouraged him to thrust harder. He shifted to sit on his knees, gathering her hair in his hands as he went, and he pulled back gently, testing the waters. Her neck craned from its position, yet she felt surprised at how much she enjoyed it. “Arthur, I--”

“Wanted to do this since I saw ya on the train.” He gripped tighter on her locks, and she pushed against the mattress, arching her back. He felt so good inside of her and as she thought back to that night, she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel the same, despite the circumstances they’d met in.

He pulled harder, and he punctuated his words with a hard thrust each time, “looked so good, so innocent - wanted to take ya right there.”

Vanessa gasped, she felt incredibly hot, and she could barely keep hold of her breathing. She swallowed, and licked her lips before making her own confession. “I would’ve let you.”

Arthur immediately slowed his rhythm letting go of her hair, and instead he reached for her shoulders, pulling her up so her back was flush against his chest. “In front’a all those people?” His left arm slid across her chest, holding her tightly against him, and he placed his right hand along the bottom of her throat. “D’ya want that? Want an audience?”

He ran his hand up her neck and curled his fingers over her chin, and Vanessa opened her mouth for his digits. He placed his pointer and middle finger inside, and she encompassed them with her mouth, sucking _hard_.

“Look at ya. Maybe i’ll take ya back to camp and we can show ‘em how good ‘ya are fer me.” He pulled his fingers out of her mouth and pushed against her back, directing her to bend over for him. He grabbed a hold of her hips and began to fuck her in earnest.

He slammed into her hard, and she tried to grab onto the sheets for purchase, but she couldn’t stop her body from moving each time his pelvis met hers. The thought of people watching Arthur pound into her excited her more than she imagined, and she suddenly felt desperate for her release. “Arthur, please.”

He let go of her hip with one of his hands and he reached around her to massage her clit. “I gotcha, darlin’.”

She whined, she was _so close_ , and she pushed her ass back to meet every thrust. His hand quickened its pace, and she threw her head back, opening her mouth to release a silent cry as she fell off the edge.

“Jesus, Vanessa.” He gripped her incredibly tightly as he chased his own orgasm, and she couldn’t stop her loud gasps as she felt the full force of his strength against her. His short fingernails dug into her skin as he stilled, and she felt his cock pulsating inside of her as he came.

He pulled out, and fell back onto the mattress, breathing heavily as he ran his hand through his hair. Vanessa rolled to her side and pushed herself up onto her elbow to get a better view of him. His eyes were shut, and his mouth was open as he tried to catch his breath.

She'd had a wonderful sleep, the best she'd had in months, and a part of her dreaded heading back to camp. But they'd stretched their stay to three nights, taking ample time to get to intimately know one another, and she was grateful for that.

Arthur was more complex than his outward appearance would lead people to believe, and she was pleasantly surprised by the conversations they'd shared. She'd been particularly eager to listen to his thoughts on the state of the gang, and she was relieved to know that he'd harboured his own doubts about where they were headed.

But he'd felt trapped. Arthur had spoken to her about his childhood - how his mother had died too soon and his father hadn’t died soon enough, and how eventually Dutch and Hosea had taken him in 20 years before when he was a desperate kid, and it was impossible to shake off the feeling that he owed his life to them; she could understand that. This world was frightening, and she couldn't imagine how much of a relief it would have been to be given a place in life.

She reached out and placed her hand on his chest. “Are you sure we have to go?”

He smiled and opened his eyes, turning his head toward her. “We gotta.” She jutted her bottom lip out in a pout, and he smirked in response, “I promise we’ll do this again.”

Her frown turned upward, “I hope so.”

Vanessa managed to coax Arthur into agreeing to one more breakfast in bed before they’d start heading out, and she was relieved when a tray of food was placed in front of her. In their haste to ravage one another she’d found they’d kept pushing their hunger aside to go one, two, three more rounds.

They spoke quietly as they ate, enjoying one another’s company, and as he finished his meal Arthur grew inquisitive.

“So, I’ve noticed ya never seem to like talkin’ about where exactly you come from, what kinda home ya grew up in. Why is that?”

She stopped mid-bite into a strawberry, and she looked up into his multi-coloured eyes. “You’re not wrong.”

He huffed out a laugh and chewed on his bottom lip, “...does it make ya uncomfortable?”

She shook her head, “no, no - that’s not it, I just…” She shifted and sat up straight, grabbing the blanket to hold it against her chest. “It’s not that it makes me uncomfortable, it’s that I worry if everyone knew exactly how well off I’ve been, that they’d feel differently about me. I already had a hard time fitting in with some people, I didn’t want to justify their feelings, I suppose.”

Arthur nodded, “I get that.”

“I just want people to see that I can be useful and a hard-worker, despite my upbringing. I don’t want anyone to doubt me.”

He reached his hand out and gently held her chin between his thumb and pointer finger, “no one does, sweetheart.” He gave her a little tap with his knuckle before pulling back.

“...and I also didn’t want _you_ to think that I was stuck up,” she let out a laugh and pushed her hair behind her ear. “I wanted you to give me a chance.” She reached for his hand and grasped it, “which I think worked in my favour.”

He smiled, “evidently.”

He reached for her empty tray and picked it up before depositing it onto the night stand and turning back to her. “But since we’re alone… how well-off are ya talkin’ here?”

She pursed her lips, “Arthur!”

“Nah, come on, we ain’t high-class here, you can talk about money. Tell me.”

She leaned forward, “Mr. Morgan, are you just after me for my riches?”

He smirked and raised his brows, “course not.”

Vanessa swallowed, “...okay. My family comes from old money. My father’s family made their fortune through real estate and oil, and my mother’s family came from English Aristocracy. My mother’s parents emigrated to America in the 1840s and brought their wealth with them and they were lucky in their investments.”

Arthur nodded and pulled a surprised expression, “so yer sayin’ you didn’t grow up in a two-bedroom cabin?”

She giggled, “no.”

“What’s it like?”

She pictured it in her mind. “It’s beautiful. A stone facade, three floors, a tower overlooking--”

“A tower??”

She bit her lip, “mhm. It has over 200 acres of land.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“I know. And when I think about it it’s entirely too extravagant for one family and since arriving here I’ve realized the disparity of it all. I feel a bit guilty about it.”

He shook his head, “don’t. Can’t help what yer born into.”

She smiled and closed the gap between them, placing a light kiss on his lips. “Thank you.” The passed few days alone with him had made Vanessa grow even fonder of him than she already had been, and she’d been harbouring more thoughts of what a life with him could be like.

“Arthur.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

She swallowed, “I hope that someday you’ll let me take you there.”

He tilted his head and gave her a look she couldn’t quite read, and she worried that she’d overstepped.

“Not now! I know you want to stay here and that’s okay and I---”

He placed his fingers over her lips to quiet her. “That ain’t it.” He slid his hand from her mouth to the back of her neck, “darlin, you just described a mansion the likes I’ve never seen. I was born into a life of crime and I’ve done things I wouldn’t wish on anybody. And you,” he gently squeezed the back of her neck, “you’re a lady. A _real_ lady, and I ain’t deservin’ of setting foot into yer home, let alone touchin’ ya.”

“Of course you are, Arthur.”

The corners of his mouth twitched upward, “I’m an old, sad man, and half the time I can’t believe ya even look at me.”

She gripped his wrist, moving his hand from her neck, “don’t talk like that, don’t say that about yourself.” She gave his chest a push before he leaned back and she straddled his thighs. “I am going to take you to New York, introduce you to the upper class and every single person you come across will say, “oh, how did Vanessa Talbot ever get so lucky?”

He smiled and leaned back on his elbows, “will they?”

“Absolutely. You’ll make the husbands jealous because their wives will want to travel south to find their own cowboys.”

Arthur laughed loudly and she revelled in the sound, “Vanessa--”

She covered his mouth with her palm. “Shush. A lady is always right so you’re not allowed to argue with me.”

She felt his mouth quirk beneath her skin and when she removed it she was happy to see his face light up with a smile. “Okay.”

“Good.” Vanessa slid off of him, albeit reluctantly, and reached for her clothing, “now come on, we have to get you back to camp.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update and that it's not very long. I kind of lost my momentum there for a little bit but I hope that it'll come back to me :)


	16. Chapter 16

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the men carrying his body outside to be placed on the wagon she and Sadie had driven into town. Mercifully, his face was covered as he passed her and she wondered what kind of expression he held. Did he look peaceful? Did his face hold a grimace? Had he been terrified? What if he--

"Miss?"

The voice pulled her away from her thoughts and back towards the man behind the counter of the local doctor. While pained, Vanessa tried her best to pull the corners of her mouth into a polite smile. "Thank you, for returning my uncle to me."

He reached up and tipped his hat to her, "think nothing of it. And I'm very sorry for your loss."

She turned, not wanting to keep the conversation going any longer than necessary, before she made her way outside. Should she ride in the cart with Hosea? Or would it be better for her to sit up front? 

"Come here, honey. Best not to look."

She nodded, and took a deep breath as she climbed up next to her.

They rode in silence, neither of them quite knowing what to say to the other. After Arthur and Vanessa had returned to camp he'd been pulled into a meeting with Dutch and Hosea. The older man was excited about the possibility of executing a bank heist, and they were in the process of working out a plan at how best to accomplish it. But when the day came it became clear they'd been set up, and the job went sour. And almost everything Vanessa could have anticipated going wrong did.

Charles had ridden hard into camp, both him and his horse were sweating and exhausted as they reached Shady Belle. He'd recited everything that had transpired during the botched bank robbery, and upon hearing it Vanessa had never felt so horrified in her life. John had been captured, Lenny was dead, Hosea had been killed in the street by Agent Milton, and the others had stowed away on a boat, no one knowing where it was sailing to. Where was Arthur? Was he alright? And John? What would the Pinkertons do to him?

Abigail was a wreck. Her and John had just started to turn the tide in their relationship, and now he was taken from her grasp. 

"Charles you gotta get him back!"

He wanted to, of course, but his face was known. "Soon as I set foot in town they'll be all over me."

Vanessa had paced, trying to think of what to do. "Abigail, don't worry, we'll... I'll figure something out. We'll get John back, I promise."

It had been over 24 hours since she'd said that, and she still hadn't come up with a plan as to how to accomplish it. But, in the meantime, they'd managed to find Lenny's body, with the help of Charles' directions, and they'd brought him back to camp to give him a proper burial. Vanessa felt awful about his death. He was so young, so kind, and she knew that Arthur was very fond of him. He should've had many years ahead of him and it was ripped away far too soon. But she tried to be grateful that they'd managed to go back to him, so that he could get the proper sendoff that he deserved.

Finding where Hosea was was more difficult. He wasn't in the street where he'd died, of course they wouldn't have left him there, so it took a while for them to locate him, and to convince the doctor's office to release his body. In the end, Vanessa had paid them a fine sum in exchange for their loss of a cadaver, but there was no way in hell she would've left him there. 

When they arrived at camp Charles told them he'd dug a grave for him, and he was ready with a makeshift headstone marker when they were.

"Would you mind if I look through his things? I want to be sure he has everything he needs before we bury him." Charles nodded down at her, "course."

Vanessa sauntered over towards his tent, and when she pulled the flap back she suddenly felt tears flood her eyes. Over her time with Hosea she'd grown to feel as if he were a surrogate father to her, and she was surprised at how devastated she felt at the loss of him. Of course she'd known that she cared about him, but she didn't realize just how much she'd relied on his presence. And with Arthur missing? How was she supposed to do this without him?

She closed the flap behind her and walked towards a chest that sat beside his cot. It was unlocked, and when she opened it she saw numerous trinkets, small mementos of a life spent in the west. She gently pushed a few things around, and she came upon a tiny photo of Hosea with a woman who she assumed to be Bessie. He'd spoken to her about Bessie more than once, and she could tell that he missed her dearly. Laying next to it was a simple, gold ring, and it was inscribed on the inside of it, "to my loving husband." 

She sighed as she stood, and not wanting to rummage through too many of his things, she exited the tent and headed back towards the others. 

"I've found these." She held the items up and Miss Grimshaw gave her approval. "He'd like that, Vanessa. Go on."

While she'd looked through his belongings Charles had carefully laid him on the ground next to the grave, and Vanessa crouched down beside him. She took his hand, and grief swam through her as she felt just how cold she was, and at the sight of the hole that had been blown into his chest, but she brushed it aside not wanting to fall apart until she was alone, and she slid the ring onto his finger. She tried her best to place the photo into his grip before she clasped his hands together, resting them against his abdomen. She stood and turned back to Charles, "alright... be careful please."

She stepped back to give him space, and once Charles had placed him into the ground Vanessa listened as Miss Grimshaw said a few words. In truth, she could hardly remember what the older woman had said, as her gaze had been fixated on Hosea's face. By the grace of God he truly did look like he was at peace, and Vanessa was eternally grateful for that. 

When it was all over, they gathered around the fire, each of them wondering what to do next.

Sadie spoke first, "we gotta leave. There ain't a chance they won't come lookin' for us after that disaster."

Charles nodded, "it won't be too long until they find us. Any ideas?" There was some debate on where to head but eventually they landed on heading towards the bayou, with the idea that the Pinkertons wouldn't expect them to go there next. 

"And? What about John? We ain't just gonna leave him there, are we?" Vanessa turned towards Abigail, and her heart tugged at the sight of her clutching a sleeping Jack sitting in her lap, not wanting to let him go. 

Miss Grimshaw stood, "we oughta wait for Dutch."

Abigail let out a laugh, "Yeah? And when the hell is he gonna show up? By the time he comes back, if he even does, John'll be long gone. That Agent ain't gonna wait for Dutch."

Silence fell upon the small group, and Vanessa finally had an idea. "Abigail? I think I can do it."

Her face lit up, and she kissed Jack's temple before answering, "Do ya?"

Vanessa took a swig of the whiskey she'd been drinking. "I think so... I'll have to go into town tomorrow. And I can't have any of you come with me."

Sadie shook her head, "no, no way you're doin' that by yourself. Arthur would wring our necks."

"Well Arthur isn't here, is he?" Vanessa wanted to recoil as soon as she said those words, her tone came out far harsher than she intended for it too, but the stress of the day was eating at her. "I apologize, but I have to do this alone, okay? Just trust me. Please. I don't want to draw anymore attention to us than we already have."

She took her leave after that, and made her way towards the bed that her and Arthur had shared. She pulled the covers over top of her, and breathed in the remnants of Arthur's scent that he'd left behind. Christ, she was so worried about him. Where the hell was he? What if the ship had taken him somewhere dangerous? What if she never saw him again? She should've lingered more on the kiss they shared as he departed. Maybe that was the last time she'd ever again feel his lips on hers?

She couldn't help herself, and she wept into her pillow.

 

* * *

 

Vanessa was nervous. She'd awoken early that morning, finding herself unable to sleep. So she'd gotten up, and written another letter to her brother. She wasn't certain exactly what she needed from him, but she knew that at some point, if not sooner rather than later, she would need his help in one way or another.

She carefully closed the letter and placed it into her bag, before getting dressed and heading on her way out. With Arthur gone she'd decided to ride his horse, feeling sorry for the animal. She wasn't sure how long his owner would be gone, or if he even would return at all, so she felt she owed it some comfort. She wanted to make sure that it was properly taken care of.

Before reaching her destination she stopped at the post office to send her letter and an idea struck her. "Excuse me? Do you have any correspondence for an Arthur Morgan?" The man held his hand up to her, signalling that he would take a look, and she was surprised when he handed her a letter. She stared down at it, and saw that it came from a woman named Mary Linton. Who was that? She felt jealousy brewing in her stomach, but she decided that she'd think about that later. She shoved the envelope into her bag before exiting, and making her way towards the pharmacy. 

She perused the chemicals along the shelves, reading each label to find what would be best for her needs, and her eyes lit up when she found just what she was looking for. The pharmacist seemed hesitant to sell it to her, however, when she placed the bottle onto the counter. "You do understand, miss, that this isn't to be played with?"

Inside she felt aghast at his condescension towards her, but in lieu of starting an argument she plastered a fake smile on her face to appease him, "oh, don't worry. It's not for me." 

A few hours later, and with the help of the Sheriff who was more than amenable to having a few extra dollars to his name. so long as he pointed her into the direction of where recent arrestees were being held, Vanessa found herself approaching Sisika Penitentiary. She had been put out when she realized that the best way to access it was by row boat, and she'd just about tipped the boat over when she stumbled into it. She quickly discovered that rowing was far harder than it looks, and she immediately realized that one should not partake in physical labour whilst wearing a corset. but she'd made a promise to Abigail to get John back, and she intended on keeping it.

When she reached the dock a prison guard was waiting for her. "We saw ya comin'." He reached out for her hand and she gladly accepted the assistance. "Thank you."

He eyed her up and down, and he pulled a face as she tried to catch her breath, "mind if I ask what you're doing here? You ain't got a husband locked up, do ya?"

She let out a laugh before standing upright, composing herself, "oh, no, I don't. But I am interested in bringing a prisoner back with me." 

He raised his brows at her, "what makes you think we'll agree to that?"

Vanessa cleared her throat and took a step closer to him, "because I am the wife of Richard Levinson, the owner of a rather large, and rather  _important_ estate just outside of Blackwater. And the man that I am looking to take with me is my brother and, as I am sure you can understand, both myself and Mr. Levinson wish to avoid the scandal that my having an incarcerated brother will bring."

He looked behind her back towards the boat before returning his gaze to hers. "Why have you come alone?"

"If I had come with any of my husband's men we would have attracted attention. And as I've already stated, we are trying to avoid scandal." She pursed her lips, worried that he wasn't biting, so she reached her hand out and touched his arm, "and I would be so very grateful if you could direct me to the warden so I may discuss this further."

He said nothing, but he motioned towards the entrance, and she followed him inside.

* * *

   
"So, my guards tell me that you wish to remove a prisoner from our control, is that right Mrs..."

"Levinson. And yes, that is what I wish."

The Warden leaned forward in his chair, the wood creaking beneath him as he did so. "You do realize that isn't a customary practice, yes?"

She smiled, "of course. But I believe that you can understand the extenuating circumstances."

He looked suspicious of her, but nevertheless he motioned to the guard stationed by the door. "I need you to get a prisoner for me."

They waited for about twenty minutes before John was located and brought to his office, and the Warden used that time to sufficiently grill Vanessa on exactly why she needed John Marston to leave with her, and on her personal life. She wasn't sure how convincing she was. 

When John entered the room he spotted Vanessa and looked shocked, but thankfully he didn't speak before she was able to.

"Big brother!" She quickly stood and marched towards him, throwing her arms around his neck. "I've been so worried about you!" She released him from her grasp and stared up at him, almost laughing at how utterly confused he looked.

"Vanessa, what--?"

Without knowing what he was about to say, and not wanting him to spoil her plan, Vanessa quickly put an end to it and she slapped his cheek. "That's for making me come here to fetch you. Do you have any idea how cross you've made mother and father?"

To his credit he kept silent, and the Warden instructed the guard to leave and shut the door on his way out. Vanessa took her previous place across from the Warden and John stood awkwardly in the corner.

"Mrs. Levinson, I realize that you want to take your brother home but this man is here because he committed a crime. I can't just let you take him."

She swallowed, "I had thought you might say that. So I was hoping that we could come to some arrangement."

The warden placed his hands onto his desk and clasped them together. "What did you have in mind?"

"Would the Penitentiary be open to receiving a substantial donation for his release?"

His eyes flicked towards John - he looked as if he was assessing him before he turned his gaze back to Vanessa. "Possibly." He slid his hands to the end of the desk and pushed his chair back before standing. He turned, scanning the journals that lined the shelves. With his gaze finally off of her Vanessa reached into her bag for what she'd purchased from the pharmacist earlier that day, and she uncorked the bottle as quietly as possible, before she dipped her handkerchief into the substance.  Out of the corner of her eye she saw John sidle up to her, and when she closed the bottle she handed her bag to him as she stood. 

The warden didn't seem to notice her movement, distracted by the ledger that he'd opened. She walked around the desk to get closer to him, "well? What does that book say? How much do you need from me?"

He spun back around, and despite his earlier indifference her physical presence seemed to please him. "What do you want to give me?"

Vanessa smiled, "I have an idea." And without giving him a moment to retort, she lunged at him, covering his mouth and nose with her handkerchief which she'd doused with chloroform. 

He clutched at her hands trying to push her away, and he stumbled over the chair as he went for her, quickly catching his footing before he gripped at her throat. Vanessa gasped, and she instinctively kneed him in the groin just as John sprang forward and covered the handkerchief with his palm, leaving the Warden no choice but to breathe it in. Within seconds, the man collapsed to the floor unconscious.

"Jesus Christ, Vanessa."

She felt shaky, "I know. But come on, we have to hurry up and get out of here before he comes to."

She was desperate to run towards the exit, but she knew that they couldn't. Instead, the two of them calmly walked out of the prison and made their way back to the boat she'd come in on. John stepped in first and he steadied it as she climbed in before John grabbed the oars and rowed much faster than she had been able to. It took everything in her not to continuously look back towards the prison, but she didn't want to give the guards any reason to be suspicious of them.

Vanessa didn't begin to feel any relief until they'd made it to shore, and even then they rode quickly back toward Saint Denis, both of them worried that somehow the guards would catch up to them. Out of precaution they decided not to head back to camp, just in case they  _were_ being followed, and they went in search for a place to rest their feet after such a trying day.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, of course I know that they got both Lenny's and Hosea's bodies from the morgue, and I also know that they were buried elsewhere, but I just wanted to change it up for this chapter.


	17. Chapter 17

She took a sip of her drink and watched as John opened his mouth to release the smoke from his cigarette, the breeze from outside pulling the small grey puff out and through the window to join it. Vanessa had booked a room at a bawdy house, much to John’s amusement, but she had been worried that someone from Sisika Penitentiary might trail behind them, and she wanted them to land in a place where respectable eyes wouldn’t follow.

When she’d left that morning she’d considered bringing some of his things for him to wear, but John had a habit of putting off his washing until it was _absolutely_ necessary, so instead she’d stopped at a nearby tailor and she’d bought him something new. When she revealed it to him he’d paused, not wanting her to have spent money on him, before she rebuked his refusal.

“Please, John. You’ve really been there for me and I value your friendship. Let me do this for you.”

“Yeah, and you did enough for me breakin’ me outta there.”

“Just take it, please, I… I like to feel useful.”

He looked as if he was going to retort but he decided against it before thanking her.

They’d locked the door as soon as they entered their room, and John had firmly planted himself on a chair next to the window, wanting to keep an eye on their backs. She was grateful for it; as much as she had faith in the abilities that she’d gained she wasn’t certain she could outrun anyone who chose to follow on her own. And besides, she had other things on her mind that were distracting her.

She swallowed, and she felt a lump emerge at the bottom of her throat. “John?”

“Hm?”

Vanessa bit the bottom corner of her lip, wondering if it was right of her to ask him the question that was on the tip of her tongue. But then she thought about their current predicament, and she realized that her high-brow etiquette wasn’t necessary here.

“You’ve known Arthur for quite some time.”

From his profile she could see that he furrowed his brows, and he pulled his gaze away from the window. “I have.”

“And you would know about the people that he’s associated with, yes?”

The right corner of his mouth turned upward and he let out a short huff of a laugh. “I rightly do.”

She cleared her throat, “Alright. Can I ask you a question?”

He turned in his chair and bounced his leg in place. “Isn’t that what we’re already doin’?”

She laughed at that, and she looked down at the floorboards, feeling her cheeks tinge pink with embarrassment. “Yes, sorry.” She took a breath and stood up, walking towards her bag that she’d left on the table. She opened it, and saw the crumpled letter that she’d retrieved from the Post Office earlier that day. “Who is Mary Linton?” She turned back to face him, and he pushed his hair behind his ear as he sat forward.

“Let me see that.”

Vanessa walked towards him and he took the letter from her hands and stared down at it. "You gonna open it?"

"I don't know. I don't even know who she is or if it's any of my business." She clasped her hands together, fidgeting with her fingers. "Should it be my business, John? Is Mary Linton someone I should know about?"

He cleared his throat and sat back in his chair as he took a long drag from his cigarette, “I, uh…”

His reluctance to divulge the answer instantly made hear heart sink. and she almost didn't need him to verbalize a response. But that didn't stop her from feeling like she needed to hear it. “John.”

He held his hand out in defeat as he blew smoke out of the side of his mouth, “Alright. Her and Arthur, they were engaged once.”

Vanessa felt as if her legs no longer wanted to support her, so she quickly moved towards the bed and sat down upon the mattress. “Engaged?”

He nodded. “Long time ago.”

She felt her pulse quicken, and she wasn’t certain whether it was the jealousy that she now felt through her veins or if it was that she was bothered by the fact that Arthur had omitted telling her about Mary that caused it. Maybe both. “What happened?”

“He never wanted to talk to me about it. Still doesn't. But it was years ago and I was a dumb kid. Far as I know her daddy didn’t like him.” He stood and pushed the butt of his cigarette out on the windowsill before he tossed the letter onto the table, leaving it unopened.

"So she left?"

He crossed his arms as he leaned against the table, "she did... but I feel like you should be talkin’ to him about this, not me. I wanna help but I ain’t got the answers you’re lookin’ for.”

“I know. I'm sure I shouldn't have even pried this far, but I appreciate you telling me... I don't want to question him or us, even, I just -- I'm worried about him. I have no idea where he is or if he'll be back. And there is so much for us to still find out about one another, I don't want to miss the opportunity, John."

“I know you don’t. But he will come back, trust me. He’s a real bastard, that way.”

A laugh escaped her lips before she felt her eyes begin to well up. She missed him so much, and she ran her hand over her face to try and calm herself down. 

He dropped his arms, his need to fidget making it clear that John was equally as uneasy about this conversation as she was. He stepped back towards his chair, but he pulled it across the floor and placed it in front of her. "Can I confess something?"

She held her palms out in an invitation, "of course."

"Alright. And don't get mad, but when you first got here I thought maybe you'd leave too."

Vanessa frowned, "why?"

John let out a laugh and he shrugged, "come on. You come from a rich family, you were sent here to marry a rich man and you wind up runnin' with us, evidently in a  _very_ different situation that you ain't used to. Then Dutch asks ya to get involved, Sean gets his head blown off, Jack gets stolen and we have to rescue him. Why the hell wouldn't you leave? You wouldn't be the first."

She couldn't deny it. When she stepped off the train that day she had no intention of staying with them long-term. They were supposed to be a landing pad for her while she figured out what her next step would be. This was never meant to be permanent. But then Arthur had happened.

"If I'm honest I surprised myself by staying, too... I just found a reason to stay that I didn't anticipate."

"Ya, I know." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs and looked up at her, "you surprised him too. But just..  _don't_ worry about Mary. She ain't got  _nothin'_  on you." 

 

* * *

 

When she awoke the next morning she smiled as her eyes came into contact with John's face. They'd had to share a bed, but he'd tried his best to be a gentleman and he'd slept on top of the covers. His mouth was wide open as he breathed through it and she wanted to laugh at how much he resembled Jack in that moment. She felt lucky - no matter what was going to happen she knew that she'd be eternally grateful for finding a friend in John.

She quietly left the room to wash up and when she returned she gently woke him, before they quickly left. They'd tried their best to slip away unnoticed, and by the time they were out of the city Vanessa felt a wave of relieve come over her. It didn't appear that anyone had come looking for them, and she prayed that it would stay that way. 

It made her heart swell when they made it back to camp and both Jack and Abigail came running up to greet John. After the kidnapping he had really started to take to being a proper father and husband, and the love between the three of them was obvious. 

It didn't take long for John to regale what remained of their camp mates with the story of how Vanessa managed to break him out of the Penitentiary, and she felt flattered at the praise she received for her efforts. 

"It was nothing, really, I'm sure you'd all have done the same for me."

She spent the rest of the day alone, not much feeling like being around any company. She couldn't stop wondering where Arthur was and if he was in any danger. Had the law caught up with him while he tried to escape? Had he been injured? Was he even still alive?

When they moved to their new camp she'd packed Arthur's things for him and made sure they weren't left behind. And in his things she found one of his journals that he'd shared with her. Without him near her she just wanted to hold onto something that was truly _Arthur_ , so she languidly flipped through the pages and she smiled as she re-read the drabbles about his day. He'd previously told her that he wrote about whatever happened to be on his mind at the time. He had some entries that made her laugh when she read them, in particular one that read, "Micah's in jail. Good."

There were drawings. Some of still life, some of their camp mates, and others of strangers. He had a real talent. She'd meant it that day months ago when she'd told him so. If she ever had the opportunity she wanted to take him to the galleries in New York. He'd love it. 

It was funny, really. She knew that Dutch used him as somewhat of a human shield, the man who he sent to do the hard, physically intimidating jobs, but as much as Arthur might outwardly appear rough, he was a different kind of being on the inside. That's part of what she loved about him. He was complex. He was unexpected.

She continued flipping through the pages and she stopped when she came to an entry that he made the night that they'd met. "Went on a job today. Met a beautiful woman on the train." Her throat felt dry, and she ran her fingers over the page, the words feeling tangible against her skin. She flipped further, and found more entries where he mentioned her, each one she read making her miss him even more. 

She let out a sigh when she found a drawing of herself. She remembered that morning; she'd awoken to find Arthur lost in concentration as he sketched onto the page. He'd been embarrassed at first but she was elated at the notion that he wanted to immortalize her in some way. She wished she could do the same for him.

Being without him had been more difficult than she could have anticipated. She'd been through so much since her parents had shipped her away, and having Arthur near helped her cope with everything. Without him she felt vulnerable, both mentally and physically, and if he didn't come back soon she'd have to start really thinking about what she was going to do next. Did she have a life with these people without him?

Vanessa reached for the pen and inkwell she had and flipped to the first empty page. She wrote the date at the top, and made the following entry:

_I miss you. And I need you to come back to me so I can tell you how special you are. How much I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm sorry this is a short chapter but I have plans to update it again in a few days with a new one (this time with a sunburnt Arthur, returning from Guarma) :P


	18. Chapter 18

She gathered her hair in her hands and twisted it, trying to ring out the excess water back into the river. Vanessa had awoken that morning feeling rather defeated, and not knowing how best to rid herself of the feeling, she slipped away and rode Arthur's horse a quarter mile away from camp and went for a dip. The water had been freezing, practically knocking the breath out of her when she stepped in, but after she emerged she felt refreshed.

She was a bit annoyed at herself for not bringing another towel as her hair dripped onto the fabric of her thin dress. But it didn't matter. It was already warm out and she knew that by the time she made it back to camp she'd be considerably drier.

Her stomach rumbled, a clear sign that she should be on her way, so she reached for her bag and shoved her towel inside before she heard the _snap!_ of a twig. She turned quickly as she heard Arthur's horse neigh and her heart just about stopped when she saw the reason.

Arthur reached out and ran his hand along his horse's mane and the animal nudged its head into him, clearly pleased to see him again. "Yer alright, girl."

Vanessa wanted her legs to move but she found her body wasn't letting her. So she sat, dumbstruck, clutching her pack as Arthur smiled towards his horse and then turned his gaze to her.

"I asked Tilly and she said…" He stopped short as he began to walk towards her, Vanessa unsure if it was her inability to move that made him do so or if it was something else. When he reached her he crouched down to her level. grabbing the bag away from her and placing it on the ground next to them, and continued. "That you might be here."

She reached out and delicately touched along his jaw. He hadn't shaved in weeks and his skin was tinged pink, evidence that wherever he'd been he had been both hat-less and in quite a bit of heat.

"Arthur."

He swallowed and looked down between them as he reached for her hand and held it. "Hi, darlin'. It's been a while."

She laughed at his words and she smiled, finding humour in them. "Well, someone went and got himself into an awful lot of trouble."

He smirked, "yeah. Someone did."

He leaned forward and captured her lips with his own, and she felt that even his mouth hadn't been spared from the effects of the heat he'd endured. Between his new beard and his chapped lips the kiss felt rough but truthfully she barely cared.

Vanessa reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him flush against her. She knew that in the grand scheme of things it hadn't been _that_ long since she'd seen him but to her body it had felt like an eternity. She _needed_ him.

She slid her hands down his back and pulled the hem of his shirt out from beneath his trousers and she gulped as he obliged her desires, lifting his arms up so she could drag the offending fabric away from him.

His chest was lightly burnt from where his shirt had been left open, and she had it in her mind to force some salve onto him, but that would be for later. "Jesus, Arthur. Where the hell have you been?"

His hands flew to the back of her neck, plastering her damp hair to her skin, the cold in stark juxtaposition to the heat she felt within herself. "Nowhere good."

She felt a tug against the buttons along the front of her dress and she quickly joined in to help, undoing them before slipping the straps off her shoulders, revealing her chest to the open. Arthur latched his mouth to her nipple and she preened as he ran his thumb along the other.

Vanessa whined when he removed himself before he gave her a push and she laid back against the grass. He sat on his knees and undid his belt, hurriedly sliding it out of the loops and he tossed it to the ground away from him.

"Been thinkin' about this since we ran for it." He undid the buttons of his pants and Vanessa grabbed the skirt of her dress and pulled it upward and out of the way, eager to have him inside of her.

He leaned over her, "had to get back to you." He lined himself up and thrust into her, breaching her completely in one swift movement. "Had to get back to _this_." She wrapped her legs around him, hooking her heels to his hips, and he thrust in and out of her, all the while breathing his groans into her ear.

She had missed this, she had missed _him_ , and she felt pathetic at the realization that despite the act of their fucking one another on the ground like animals, she wanted to cry at their reunion.

"God, Arthur."

She touched one hand to his shoulder and ran the other through his hair and he leaned down, placing a kiss to her temple before he shifted, putting his weight onto one side. He ran his right hand down her torso and underneath her dress, stopping when he came into contact with her clit. He kept eye contact as he began to rub his thumb in a circular motion and he seemed enamoured with watching her squirm beneath him.

"I've missed seein' ya like this." He quickened his touch, and she arched her back in response. "So perfect fer me."

She swallowed, and her mouth felt parched. "Arthur."

He latched his mouth to her neck and he sucked hard as she slipped off the edge. He groaned at the sight of her pleasure and he fucked her harder into the earth.

"Sweetheart."

He pressed his forehead against hers as his rhythm faltered and it was clear that he was close. Vanessa tilted her head up to kiss his lips and she held his face in her hands as he spilled himself inside of her. Vanessa sighed, listening as he caught his breath. "Come on. Let's get back before someone finds us."

 

* * *

 

She held the blade to his cheek and he eyed her, "uhh, you sure I can trust ya with that? It's pretty sharp."

Vanessa bit her lip to stifle a smile, "so long as you hold still you'll have nothing to worry about."

After they'd gotten back to camp she'd been able to assess him properly. He was in need of a wash, a trim and a shave, very badly. He'd been reluctant to go into town for worry that someone would remember his face and turn him in, so Vanessa had offered to use the straight razor on him. 

She held his chin and turned his head to the side before slowly running a swipe over his jaw. She dipped the blade into a bowl of water, rinsing it off before repeating the movement. It was on the third swipe that she remembered.

"I have something to ask you."

He reached his hands out and rested them on her hips. "Hm? What's that?" 

"...why didn't you tell me about Mary?"

His mouth fell open slightly and he stared up at her, but she felt nervous and unable to meet his gaze, so she continued with her task, waiting for him to respond. She felt his grip tighten around her before he reached up and grabbed her wrist, "I'd rather you not be holdin' a razor to my throat when we talk about this."

Despite her anxieties his comment made her let out a laugh, "I'm sorry, I wasn't--"

He shook his head, "it's alright."

There was a pause, and the silence made her heart skip a beat. She suddenly felt thirsty, and she placed the razor down and grabbed a glass of water that she'd poured previously, downing it in a few gulps. "I'm only asking because while you were away I went into town to mail a letter, and while I was there I thought I would be nice and ask about anything for you." She looked down at the chest that sat beside his cot and pointed towards it, "she sent you something. I put it in there."

He reached for it and looked toward her. "You didn't read it?"

"No - but I did ask John about her after I broke him out of Sisika--"

He cut her off and held his hands out. "hold on a minute, darlin'. You broke John outta where?"

"Sisika Penitentiary." He looked flabbergasted and had they not been in the middle of an important conversation she would have allowed them to be diverted. "I'll tell you about that after, I promise. But I had the letter on me and I asked John who she was and showed him the envelope... I shouldn't have even told him about it, I'm sorry. I should have just left it for you."

He looked downward and stared at the envelope with his name neatly printed on it. "What did he tell you about her?"

Vanessa sighed and she touched her hand to her chest and rubbed, trying to physically push away her unease. "He said you were engaged -- a long time ago. He said that her father didn't like you."

Arthur let out a short laugh and raised his brows, "that's true."

"Arthur..." She tried to find the right words to ask her question, but her brain seemed to be failing her. So instead she stepped near him and sat down to his left.

"Ask me whatever you want, sweetheart. I ain't gonna lie to ya." He slipped his hand over hers, and she couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from turning upwards at his sincerity.

"Alright... does she write you often?"

He tipped his head, "more than she did when her husband was still alive."

For a brief moment Vanessa thought about remarking on how it was sad that she's a young widow, but then she quickly realized that if she was single she was free to pursue whoever she wanted, and that thought made a knot burrow in her stomach. "Do you ever visit her?"

He nodded, "but it's been months. You and I, well - we hadn't gotten to know each other yet."

She knew that the question she really wanted to ask was ridiculous, but she wanted to clear the air. "I feel silly for even asking but...do you still have feelings for her?"

He took a breath and he looked away from her for a moment, and she inwardly braced herself for an answer that she didn't want to hear. "I did."

She furrowed her brows, "'did'?" He nodded, and he placed the letter down in his lap.

"Did. Truth be told for a long time I thought I wasn't ever gettin' over her. When she left me it killed me and I thought I'd never get a chance to be happy. She didn't want this life. But she wrote me, and I wrote back - I wanted to hold onto that. Gettin' her letters let me pretend there was still somethin' out there for me, besides all 'a this." He motioned with his hand in order to showcase what he meant. "I didn't think I'd ever get what we had back. But then I robbed a train." He pulled her hand to his chest, and clutched at it with both of his. "And I realized I was wrong."

Vanessa swallowed as she digested his words, and she came to the realization that she had been foolish to be worried. "I should've known. I just -- you were gone and I didn't know where you were, and I had time to get lost in my own head and... I'm really good at giving into my insecurities."

"It's alright. I'd 'ave thought the same... And I saw what ya' wrote."

"What?"

He licked his bottom lip and smiled, "in my journal. I saw it."

Her cheeks flushed pink and she tried to pull her hands away from him in embarrassment but he held her steady. "Christ."

Arthur let out a laugh and placed a kiss to her palm, a small bit of shaving cream transferring to her skin. "Relax, darlin'. I love you too."

Her heart fluttered at his confession and she couldn't stop herself from grinning, "well, I... Arthur, I want to kiss you but you look ridiculous, half-shaven."

He smiled and chose to ignore what she'd said, deciding to close the gap between them, and when he pulled back he ran his thumb over her mouth, wiping off any cream he left behind. "You'd better finish it then, sweetheart."

 

* * *

 

  
Soon after their private conversation Dutch had finally returned to camp along with most of the others who had been on the lam. As different as the trip had made Arthur look Vanessa was shocked when she saw Dutch's appearance. It had only been weeks but he looked like he'd aged years. Wherever he had been something about him had changed, and she could already tell that it was  _not_ for the better.

But the rest of the camp seemed happy at his return, and Vanessa didn't want to spoil it. But her intentions didn't matter, because Bill marched in and killed the mood. "Well here you is! I been lookin' all over for ya. I asked everyone I could find and eventually someone knew. Said you fools were out here." And no sooner had Bill sat down did they hear the menacing voice of Agent Milton. 

Bill had made an egregious error and allowed the Pinkertons to follow him to their location, and the men were more than eager to snuff them out.

As soon as the gunfire began Vanessa reached for the pistol Arthur gave her, and she grabbed Abigail's hand. "Come on!" The two of them ran to where Jack had been sleeping and scooped him up, before they ran towards the shadows and into the outskirts of their camp. Vanessa motioned for them to hide within a thick growth of bushes and urged them to be quiet. "Stay there!"

She tried to think of what she should do. There were so many men that had surrounded them, how had Bill not noticed he was being followed? Her eyes darted around, trying to look for anyone that was on her side, and she spotted Tilly, along with Karen, hiding behind the house. Vanessa dropped to all fours, quickly crawling towards them. "Tilly!"

"Vanessa!"

"Are you two alright?" Tilly nodded and Karen's eyes went wide, "for now."

Vanessa tapped her forehead with the barrell of her gun and she tried to think straight, but it was increasingly difficult as she tried to hear her own thoughts over the sound of the ambush. "Okay. Okay - I don't see any men behind the tree line. I think if we can make it over there we'll be away from the bulk of it." She ordered the two of them to go first, "I'll watch your back." She fixed her eyes on their forms as they crouched downward and crawled as fast as they could towards their chosen hiding place. She breathed a sigh of relief when they disappeared from her sight, and she quickly scanned her surroundings before she took a step towards the shadows just as she felt a hand on her arm.

"I found one!"

Her stomach felt as if it had jumped into her throat when she heard the man call out. She pulled her arm back as hard as she could but he was far larger than her, and he slammed her into the side the of house, her head roughly making contact with the wood.

The man leaned towards her, and she could see beads of sweat along his temple. "We've killed your friends, we'll kill you, then after that, we'll kill everyone you lov--"

His words were cut off as he coughed blood, specks of it landing on her dress. He slumped down onto the ground, red liquid seeping out of the hole Vanessa had made in his chest. She stood there, breathing heavily as she looked down at him. She felt terrified, as if she was having an out-of-body experience before she felt hands on her, and Tilly pulled her over and towards where she and Karen had been hiding.

They'd been lucky. Thanks to Arthur and Sadie, mostly, almost every Pinkerton who'd come their way had been struck down, and the rest, realizing their efforts were futile, had fled. When the sound of the fighting ceased, Vanessa stepped back toward camp in search for Arthur.

When she found him he immediately noticed the blood on her dress. "You okay?" He kissed her lips and pulled back, a look of concern written over his face when she didn't answer him. She held her hand up and showed him her gun, and he grabbed for it before taking a sniff, smelling the gunpowder residue. "Vanessa?"

The ground kicked up as Dutch approached them, "clearly, we need to leave. It'll take them some time to regroup. Mr. Pearson, Mrs. Grimshaw, start packin' up." He ordered Bill and Javier to go after the men that fled in an attempt to buy the rest of them some time.

Arthur touched his hand to Vanessa's waist as he looked back to the older man. "Where to, Dutch?"

He ran his fingers through his hair. "We just need some time, I just -- I just need some time. We can't go East, then we'll be in the ocean so then we, we gotta go North, I guess."

Despite what she had just experienced Vanessa couldn't help but be fixated on Dutch. The more he spoke the more erratic he was becoming, and the once eloquent man seemed uncharacteristically unsure of himself.

"...I just need _somebod_ y to buy me some time." He hit a nearby cart with his fist, and the broken wood cracked beneath the force, "some _goddamn time_ , one of you!"

Micah took a step towards him, "you'll figure it out, boss. You always do."

He sounded confident in his words, but Vanessa felt a foreboding feeling park itself in her gut that she intuitively knew she couldn't ignore. She couldn't rely on the faith Arthur and the others had in Dutch van der Linde. She'd need to figure out a way to get those she cared about to safety. And she needed to do it  _now_. 


	19. Chapter 19

Vanessa reached for the pin and unclasped it, pulling down the clothing she'd hung to dry in preparation for heading to the new camp location that Charles and Arthur had scouted for them. Arthur hadn't wanted to go, worried about how she was coping from the events of the night previous, but Vanessa had assured him she was fine. "And besides, I have company."

While he was gone Vanessa had busied herself with collecting both hers and Arthur's possessions, not much wanting to think about whether or not she was bothered by having killed a man. She had briefly allowed her mind to wander in that direction during her morning coffee, but focusing on it made her feel ill, and she decided that now wasn't the right time to think about it. She'd delve into the depths of that chasm when their situation wasn't so precarious. 

As she went about her tasks she found her eyes continually looking toward Dutch. While everyone else was running around, trying to gather their things, he sat in his tent smoking his pipe. Vanessa had noticed him murmuring to himself and she wondered what he was saying. He looked a mixture of frazzled and pained, and the more she stared the more worried she became. She wasn't certain what everyone else saw when they looked at him, but to her, Vanessa saw a man whose control was beginning to unravel, and she was growing more concerned that everyone around him was becoming vulnerable under his leadership.

Thinking about it, she missed Hosea. She had noticed that he was the calming voice in Dutch's head, and without him she wondered what kind of man he would be, and what choices his instincts told him to make.

When she finished loading their things onto the wagon Vanessa looked around and spotted Tilly sitting alone along the edge of camp, so she made her way towards her. 

Tilly smiled up at her, "how you holdin' up, Vanessa?"

She sighed and shrugged her shoulders, "I'm alright, thank you... but I wanted to talk to you about something." What she had in mind to speak of wasn't something she wanted anyone else to hear, so she sat close beside her and looked around before continuing. 

"Listen, I want to know what your opinion is on the state of things."

Tilly frowned, "what do you mean? Is this about what happened last night? Because that was Bill being Bill."

Vanessa let out a short laugh and shook her head, "no, I mean --" she leaned in and whispered, "about Dutch."

The younger woman looked across camp and spotted the man in question, and he was now pacing outside of his tent. "I don't know. He seems..."

"Wrong?"

"...I don't know. Maybe. It's hard to say. I haven't known him very long."

Vanessa ran her tongue over her teeth as she contemplated her words, "neither have I, which is why, up until now, I've put my trust into the faith Arthur's had in him. But I don't know if I can do that anymore. But I also don't know if I'm even allowed to voice that opinion to anyone here. There are only a handful of people that I trust to say it to, you being one of them."

Tilly leaned inward, "what? You think if you told anyone how you felt... what exactly do you think would happen?"

"I don't know, but I'm not keen on finding out... but here's the thing, what I  _do_  know is that if I'm able to protect the people that I care about, I'll do it. So I wanted to know what your plans are, if you have any."

"My plans?"

"Mhm." Vanessa turned her body to face her a bit more, and she quickly glanced around to make sure that no one had approached them while they were talking. "What do you want out of this? Do you want to stay here? Do you have ideas of living in another city? Finding a husband and having a family? What do  _you_  want?"

Tilly chuckled and looked down at the ground, "well, I don't rightly know. I've been with one gang or another for so long, I never thought about an after."

She smiled, "I don't mean to pressure you. I'm just worried about what will happen to us if we all continue along this path with Dutch. If there's a way for me to help you get out, if you want to, then I want to help you. That's all."

"Vanessa, that's really kind of you." Tilly reached for her hand and clasped it, "I'll think about it."

"Good. Whatever you need, Tilly - I'll help you."

 

* * *

 

When they arrived at Beaver Hollow Vanessa's outlook on their situation turned even more sour. She'd been told that the last group of people to stay there had an even worse reputation than the Gang had, and that was evident by the state they'd left it in. But they needed somewhere to hide, and Vanessa knew that there was no sense in complaining. You don't have many options when you're running.

As everyone settled in Vanessa took her opportunity to find somewhere to sit by herself, and to contemplate how best to navigate a way out of this mess. It would be difficult, but what she worried most about was helping Arthur see their situation for what it really was. She worried that neither him nor John would be open to the possibility that the Gang was spiraling out of control, and she didn't know what she would do if Arthur refused to open his eyes. 

She could understand it, at least she tried. Vanessa tried to put herself into his place; what would she do if the situation was reversed, and instead of Dutch as the man at the head what if it was her father? She loved him. She trusted him. He has the main reason that she had all she did in life. How could she just abandon that and leave him behind?

But Vanessa was almost at her breaking point. She didn't know how much more of this she could take.

"This seat taken?"

She looked up and to her right, and saw the object of her affection standing above her. "Be my guest." He sat down and let out a sigh as he took in the view. "Y'alright?"

Vanessa sighed, "relatively."

He shifted closer towards her, "you wanna talk about it?"

She slid her hand over his thigh, appreciating his concern over her. "Yes. But just not yet. I'm still trying to process everything."

Arthur cleared his throat and let out a short laugh, "so am I. One minute we're doin' a job, and the next we're in Guarma. And Lenny, Hosea..."

Her heart tugged within her chest, "I'm so sorry, Arthur. I know how much you cared about them. To have to see them like that can't have been easy."

"It wasn't. But I'm happy at least that you and the others took care of 'em when we couldn't."

She rested her head on his shoulder, and she felt him lean his against her own. "Of course." 

They stayed in the position for a while, just relishing being in one another's company, until the low timbre of Arthur's voice broke the silence between them. "I was worried about ya when we were gone. But I'll worry less now that I know yer able to break people outta prison without even gettin' shot at once."

Vanessa burst out laughing as she pulled back from him, "It was either that or Sadie and Charles would go in with guns blazing, and we're already in enough trouble as it is."

Arthur eyed her and the left corner of his mouth turned upward, "John told me to be careful of what I say or else ya might chloroform me."

She bit her lip, "well, if he keeps talking like that then he'll be the first one to get it."

He laughed, and his face lit up as he did so. She'd seen him laugh many times, and she always took pride in being the cause of it, but he so rarely did so like this - for a brief moment he looked so, so happy, and it was her dream to make him feel that way as often as possible. 

The moment was shattered, however, when they caught wind of Molly's drunken yelling back in the center of camp. Arthur stood, and held his hand out to help her up, and together they walked closer to the commotion.

"Did you miss me, Dutch?"

Dutch held his cigar between his fingers and he watched, irritation written over his face as she stumbled walking towards him. "You're drunk."

"And you're a bastard." She lifted her arms up and waved them around, "you're the master. The lord almighty."

Dutch's mouth fell open at her words, "calm down."

"No, Dutch! I won't be ignored anymore."

She spun around, and Arthur caught her just as she was about to fall over. "Easy there, Miss." She pushed away from his grip and held her fists clenched and to her sides. Whatever was on her mind, she was clearly angry about it.

"I don't owe you nothin', Dutch van der Linde."

Dutch held his hand out and gripped her arm, "okay. Now can we just--"

"I'll spit in your eye."

Vanessa held onto Arthur's hand, growing concerned for the woman. She hadn't gotten to know Molly well at all - she had tried to, but the Irishwoman seemed to have little to no interest in getting to know  _her_ , so she'd given up months ago. But regardless, Dutch's anger at her outburst was clear on his face. She'd never seen anyone defy him in this way, and she wasn't sure what was going to come of it.

Molly tried to pull herself away from him, and when she succeeded she poked Dutch in the chest. "I told 'em!"

"I'm sorry? Told who what?"

"I told 'em and I'd tell 'em again. Mr. Milton an' Mr. Ross, about the bank robbery. I wanted 'em to kill ya."

Vanessa's heart dropped into her stomach at the revelation. Molly had told them? Did that mean that if she hadn't said anything Lenny and Hosea would still be here? She glanced a look at Arthur's profile, and saw his breath hitch as he listened to Molly's confession.

Dutch pulled his pistol from his side and held it towards his lover, "you did what? You betrayed _me_?"

Molly ignored the weapon aimed at her and she pushed it aside with her hands to get in close, "I loved ya, you bastard! But you didn't care about me at all, did ya?"

Vanessa wanted to stop him but Arthur stepped forward and leaned in close to Dutch, "don't shoot Dutch, she ain't worth it -- just get her outta here."

Dutch looked down at the ground and turned his head to the side, "you know the rules, Arthur."

Vanessa was just trying to decipher what Dutch had said when she heard a shotgun blast, the sound of it reverberating in her ear. She jerked, and her eyes came into contact with Miss Grimshaw, holding the gun which had just been fired, residual smoke billowed out of the barrell. Vanessa's eyes widened as she turned her gaze back to Molly, and the poor women had a hole blown into her torso. Molly took a small step to the left, one to the right, and then she collapsed.

She stared down at her. Everything had happened so fast and in her shock at what she'd just witnessed Vanessa hardly heard it when Miss Grimshaw stepped forward, "she knew the rules, Arthur. Mr. Pearson, Mr. Williamson, get this body the hell outta here."

Vanessa felt a hand on her back, and when she turned she saw Tilly, and the woman's face held a similar expression to her own. They looked at each other and in that moment the question they had posed earlier had been answered. They both now knew what would happen if they crossed Dutch, and neither of them wanted that to be their fate. 

* * *

   
She had awoken early, having been unable to sleep during the night - despite everything she wanted to believe that there was a clear line of sight through the storm, but after what had happened the previous afternoon the thin thread of hope she'd been holding onto had snapped.

Vanessa couldn't stop thinking about the past few weeks - how awful everything had become. It was clear to her that the Gang was stepping into quicksand, and if she wasn't careful there'd be no way out of it. But instead of wallowing in self-pity, Vanessa had made a plan. There were certain steps that she needed to take in order to enact it, and she worried that someone else would become wise to what she was doing, but if being in this place had taught her anything it was that she could trust in her newfound abilities. She was more resourceful than she'd previously known to give herself credit for, and she planned on using it. 

She reached for her pen and some ink and quickly scribbled a letter to her brother with instructions. She blew on the paper in order to help dry the ink before she shoved the letter into her bag, intending to go into town that very day to mail it. 

She got lucky as Arthur wanted to go out on a job with Charles, so she'd hitched a ride with him before he promised to come back for her before nightfall. His absence would give her enough time to enact the start of her plans -- she just hoped to God that no one she felt distrust towards would find out before she was ready. 

 


End file.
